Maybe We Should Start All Over
by anonymous-unknown
Summary: A 'What Happened Next' inspired by 7x01 promo. Castiel has been saved from his nightmare after taking in the souls, but has unfortunately not been left without its consequences. The souls have left their mark on him, as well as forced him into another battle of wills that may just ultimately consume him. Leviathan/Legion!Castiel. Lots of whump and eventual redemption. Pre-slash.
1. Chapter 1

**Authors Note: **Okay, so this is just a bit of a teaser that I am putting out there for my latest one shot idea that may not be so one shot-ish anymore. As the summary and rating suggest (it may just go up, not sure yet), this will not be a very happy fic and may contain some very graphic imagery of the mentally, physically and emotionally torturous kind (again, the ideas are still shifting so a lot is still up in the air). Depending on the reaction that I get will determine the content this fic will ultimately have. This small piece is from the second chapter, and doesn't give away much I know but, well, like I mentioned before. This is simply just a teaser. The piece is going to be very heart-wrenching and is inspired by the 7x01 promo which has me pretty damn nervous, and my plans for it are just about all over the place. So here is a little bit of a snippet of it. I'd appreciate your feedback.

**Written:** 06 September

**Soundtrack:** Set Fire to the Rain by Adele

**Word Count:** 500+

**Category:** Dean W./Castiel

**Content:** Pre-SLASH. (Just warning those in advance who wish not to read such material.)

**Disclaimer: **Obviously, I do not possess any legal rights to anything to do with this series especially its characters. I'm sure we are all aware of that but this fact must always be noted due to this websites guidelines.

**Genres:** Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Family, Friendship, Drama, Tragedy, Suspense, Mystery

**Characters:** Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Castiel, Bobby Singer, Claire Novak, Amelia Novak, Gabriel, Crowley, Chuck, Balthazar, Death

**Fictional Characters:** Josephine, Leviathan, Legion, Azreal, Kushiel, Lahatiel, Shoftiel, Seraphiel, Jehoel, Cahetel, Elizael, Muriel, Chuck, Balthazar, Death

**Rating:** T

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**Title:** Maybe We Should Start All Over

**Author: **anonymous-unknown

**Summary:** One-Shot inspired by the 7x01 promo. A 'What Happened Next'. Castiel has been saved from his nightmare after taking in the souls, but has unfortunately not been left without its consequences. The souls have left their mark on him, and there was only so long before his choices would come back to haunt him and ultimately, take all of himself away.

"_Oh that I might have my request: and that God would grant me the thing that I long for."_

Job 6:8 – The Bible

**Chapter 1**

_Dean wasn't thinking. The kiss he gave was simple, chaste, with no meaning behind it except to only assure the former angel that he was safe. To show him that he wouldn't be hurt and that he would be protected, no matter what. It was simply a kind gesture, a small press of lips to the clammy skin of his forehead. But after only a moment he found himself pulling away and unknowingly strolling further down, slowly pressing his lips against his cold skin again. Only this time, it was to his lips._

…_He wasn't thinking._

_His brain was screaming, his heart racing, and only when Castiel responded did Dean understand what he was actually doing. He was falling into temptation, ignoring all the lies, and accepting emotions that he never thought he'd really cross. Castiel found himself doing exactly the same and both found themselves not caring about any of it anymore. Both men still held their doubts, but the moment he started to kiss him, his friend and his savior, all the walls that held them back were broken down and fell apart. Only when he started to kiss him back, did the fact of the matter no longer hold any meaning. He had lied to himself long enough, and the burn of both his desire and the truth, had finally chosen to let itself be known. To let him be free_.

Dean hesitantly pulled away, hoping to see bright blue eyes staring back at him, but what he saw when he opened his own eyes was Castiel's shallow breathing, the look on his face saying that he had sadly, finally managed to let go of something that he had kept back for so long. He knew the feeling, and felt his own eyes going back to him as Castiel finally looked up to gaze at him. His soul told him a different story. It told him the truth, and Dean suspected, that his said exactly the same in return. He wanted to push forward again, feel lips locked against his own again, but found that he didn't need to when Castiel slowly closed the space between them.

Dean didn't pull away.

_No matter how much his mind told him to, that what he was doing was wrong and that he had to hold himself back, his heart said to him the exact opposite, and the voice coming from there only shone brighter than his doubt ever had a chance to. Dean couldn't listen; wouldn't listen. Not anymore. What his spirit had held back for so long was now having its chance, and he could actually feel it right through the core of his soul, that this was the reward that had been granted to him after all the sacrifices he had had to endure. To get to experience something so pure and real, that one might have thought it impossible and never given it a chance. Dean chose not to be the fool. He chose to pursue his affections. To go after it. In finding his one true sense of peace, he would find his greatest treasure in hope._

_It was that small sense of trust, that had led him to this._

_To what he would ultimately choose. And of whom._

…

**Authors End Note:** And there you have it. It's not my first slash-ish piece in all honesty, but it's the first that I've actually had the courage to post and frankly will be incredibly mild. Saying that, just in case anyone is wondering, that means that nothing pertaining to that will go past what you saw here. Just so we're clear. Hope to see you in the beginning of this story. It will get dark in some places, but this is mostly just whump for now. Again, we'll see where it goes. Review please.


	2. Chapter 2

**Authors Note:** After much deliberation, I decided to make the teaser bit before this chapter the official first chapter and just leave it at that. I have gone into re-edit mode like crazy on this piece and have decided that even though it may have a couple mild mentions of slash, that it will not be graphic whatsoever. Again, I'm trying to get more into the emotional, psychological and mental state of the relationship between Dean and Cas that's going to unfold and leave the physical to be the most discreet. I know, I know, bummer for some of you but please remember that this is my first time having the nerve to bring -any- form of slash out and I want to slowly ease my way into it. Again, disappointing for some of you who expect it to be straight up thrown in there, but frankly, I just can't see it going that far here. If at all.

Okay, now onto more babble and the reason behind this piece in the first place. So after watching the season 7 promo and having a complete and total freak out, this idea popped into my head that very same night. A warning to everyone, it is absolutely filled with angst (this chapter especially), rage, hurt, betrayal and even death (although a lot has been changing so nothing is concrete yet), so as you can imagine this will not exactly be a happy story, or at least not in my current state of mind. This was originally going to be another installment of my post 6x22 story "Walls" but after much deliberation, I just had way too many different ideas and decided to just make it its own piece. I certainly hope it doesn't disappoint.

**Written:** 01 September

**Soundtrack: **Whispers in the Dark by Skillet

**Word Count:** 3200+

"_Our love must not be a thing of words and fine talk. It must be a thing of action and sincerity."_

John 3:18 – The Bible

**Chapter 2**

_Everything has changed. Whatever good memories he once had of time before he consumed the souls of Purgatory were now pretty much gone, forgotten, and whatever peace lay there beforehand was only to be consumed by his unrelenting and -unforgiving- guilt. Castiel had been saved from his nightmare, much like he had done with Dean in Hell but had ultimately failed with Sam in the Cage, and his absolution didn't feel anything like one in his eyes. Not really…_

_Castiel still felt the hollow presence, the millions upon millions of souls reaching out to him and begging him to take them back like a disgruntled group of martyrs. The evils of lives once slain and now stained within his very self. They were a smudge, a disease, a blackened cancer staining his entire soul and a choice that he knew for a pure hearted fact would never allow him to forget. He had made a choice, a desperate choice, and he realized only too late that he had made the wrong one. His life had changed, so much so that he couldn't even recognize it anymore for what it was. He felt foolish, stupid, and he couldn't be sure if it was because of his pride or if it was because he still felt completely alone, and expected that someone would actually be there for him. Or at least he had hoped for that chance; the sign of a reprieve._

_He had found no solace in God, not that he expected to anymore, but still, how much he prayed every, single, day to receive some sort of sign. To tell him that he had done the right thing. The only thing. Done the righteous thing. _

_His pleas were always returned with nothing but silence._

_It seemed now that the silence was his only friend, for it was the sole comfort he could find in all the darkness. The silence brought their own whispers, louder than the whispers of his brethren, the Winchesters, and Bobby Singer ever did. That's where he currently found himself now. Feeling shattered and broken and alone, even if he was currently staying with them within their walls, only out of pity he assumed, because he had nowhere else to go. He felt so very far away from them. _

_He should have felt comfort, joy, happiness, and maybe even love. He should have felt safe, but they had nowhere near that effect with every minute he spent there, each day he had with them. He was alone, and his soul felt it. Every, single day._

_Castiel was always tired, tired of the looks, the whispers, even the harsh words they sometimes made sure he was certain to hear. But he was mostly physically tired of himself, his limbs sometimes trembling in response to his thin and weary mind. Where had he gone wrong? Where did it start? Why didn't he see any other options, seek any other paths, other than to work with a demon and the _King of Hell_ of them all? It was too late to even consider that now. Crowley had long since been taken care of, for certain this time, but still that victory felt like an empty one with no meaning behind it. It didn't make him feel any better, only worse, simply because it should have never had to happen in the first place. He should have never had to destroy him, even if he did deserve it, only because he should have never forged an allegiance with him to begin with. _

_Again, it was far too late for wishful thinking at this point, but still he would try and hang on to it for dear life. Hang on to it like the hope he depended on to keep him strong in his nightmare, before the brothers ultimately rescued him. It didn't feel like such a save however, not anymore, not after learning the truth and what they ultimately thought of him now. _

_Castiel had broken that bond, shattered it, destroyed whatever little form of brotherhood he ever had with them and could never earn it back. Not how it had been before. He had missed that, still did, but he had stopped trying, trying to repair something that couldn't be fixed. Something that was irreparable. Knowing that all his attempts would be futile, he chose to leave alone what he knew was broken. _

_And what was broken, for good..._

…

Castiel was currently on the roof sitting down, his face pointed upwards and eyes closed. He inhaled, took in a breath that felt muffled and needed effort while his limbs shivered from the cold that currently blew over the land of Sioux Falls. The rooftop of the Singer home was sometimes his only salvation, his exit, and his one real form of respite whenever he needed one. He could stay out here for hours, sometimes even days. That is until someone came looking for him, either wondering what he was doing or on rare occasion, actually concerned about his wellbeing. Those moments had been rare.

Nothing had been the same after that, since his pull from his own perdition, and he was more than confident that things would never be the same between them. Their actions spoke volumes to him. Their silence just as much. There had just been too much betrayal, too many doubts from both their sides and so many lies, and Castiel couldn't try to look past it even if his mind insisted it of him. He had given it all up to keep them, to save them and protect them, but he had done so in the most desperate of ways, only to ruin everything he had to hold onto in the first place. He had reached out to one person, the -_only_- one he could think of to actually reach out to in his time of need, and that was someone who hadn't closed their hearts on him. He found his message of help to be delivered through none other than she.

_Claire Novak_.

Jimmy's daughter and the last generation of his vessel's bloodline had heard his call, had dreamed of his desperate pleas and painful cries, and had ultimately found the Winchesters and given them his message. She begged them, pleaded with them to look past their angers and help him, to save him, and her desperation bled down through her very soul and into theirs as much as her many tears did. She was frantic, distraught and blatantly irenic. She wanted to find him peace, grant the angel absolution, and not because the being had once been her father or carried his face. She wanted salvation most for him, because he felt just as important to her if not more so now.

They asked her why and she replied honestly that she couldn't be sure, had never even asked herself that question, but something about the angel told her different. He _had_ to be saved, in order for them to move on and look past their own hurts and shames.

Castiel had been their savior, her father once, and even though the spirit of Jimmy Novak wasn't around anymore she could still feel him; watching her and protecting her. She couldn't give up, not on Cas, and sure as hell made it known that they couldn't either no matter what the obstacles. They had to look past it, move on, and if they didn't care to then they would be the soulless ones, not the angel.

Even though they listened and ultimately went for it, it didn't feel anything like a victory. Or a triumph. Or even a salvation. It had simply felt, like the right thing to do. The only thing, and he couldn't be sure to what that referred to. He sometimes thought to himself, _if they never wanted to save him in the first place, then why did they even bother to? _He had asked her that on several occasions, for weeks after finally recovering from his ordeal, and she gave him but a simple answer each and every time. Knowing that he would want to hear it, had to hear it, needed to hear it. Even if it seemed like a lie, in her eyes at least, they spoke only but the sole truth.

"_You deserve to be saved."_

Her words held so much more meaning to him than anyone else's ever could, and he held onto their meaning more so than the souls ever did to him. She was right. Now if only he could get the brothers to feel the same, and maybe even himself, if not just a little more.

Little did he know that Dean had asked her that very same question, words of hate bleeding through his anger and showing her something she had already suspected. Her reply had been more simple, more straight forward and meaningful, only because she knew that he had felt a different kind of betrayal. One that was deeper, more personal, and hurt more than any other he had ever experienced in his life. Even in death. She knew the truth in him too, saw past the lies he told her and himself, and confessed to Dean the fact that she knew he already felt. The answer she saw that he already knew.

"_He loves you."_

She hoped that he would listen, that he would look past his pride and fear of acceptance and rejection, but she knew that it would not be easy. She wanted him to listen. Not just to her words, for not all words held real meaning, at least not to her, but to his heart, _and_ to his soul, no matter how damaged it was. For there always laid the truth, and lies held no place in which to hide in them. She only hoped that he would listen, and see the fact for what it was. He loved him. Castiel in return, loved him back.

* * *

><p>It had now been a year. A year since he had taken his ultimate fall and the brothers had pulled him out. It had been difficult, both filled with pressures and even more mistakes, but felt longer than a year nonetheless. His first few days, several months in fact had been spent in the panic room, body bruised, bloody and broken and mind seemingly beyond repair. The souls had left their mark on him, their dangerous deeds and ultimate punishments had been scorching and downright brutal. They had broken him, both in mind and in spirit, and nothing else seemed to matter for him after so many years of already feeling it. Castiel had given up, more than long ago as the words and actions of his past lay waste on him every chance it got. Hell was different for him with the souls, 100 years going more like a 1000, and even though it wasn't actually perdition, it still felt so much like it. Castiel had trapped himself within his own greed, and it was paying him back with every sense of dread it could imagine.<p>

Most of it had been blurred out, it was his only way of coping it seemed, but bits and pieces still stuck out to him during his most solitary moments. He remembered the shedding of blood, the sharpness of pain, and even the tortures of words stinging more than any physical act ever did. Even when it was Dean he saw in front of him, inflicting the beatings and lashes of punishment that he thought he deserved, he knew in the end that it was never really him. Not really. He knew better, wanted to know better, but there were days where he wondered, if it had not all been an illusion. The other way around.

He always tried to focus on his memories, remember the times where Dean had been his friend and not his tormentor, but the souls had used them against him. Every single one he had they took for their advantage, and served their meanings for him well in their tortures.

The views changed when the real Dean found him, hanging on desperately to life as he found the former angel beaten and broken, clothing tattered and limbs askew and hanging out in odd angles in some places. The most obvious had been a broken leg, the injury inflicted by a false manifestation of Sam, but still seemed real enough to inflict an emotional scar within him. He saw pity in Dean's eyes, looking over the former angel carefully as he took in his appearance and carefully lifted him from the cold ground, supporting him in his arms like a child as he took him away from what he was sure would be his final resting place. The last words he heard could still be echoed in his brain, long after Dean had actually said them. He still couldn't help but wonder if they were even real, or if the sad emotion behind them was just as so.

"_Oh Cas… What did they do to you?"_

…

He had spent months in this retched room, body bandaged and burning, pain shooting through every nerve of his now claimed body and mind entirely a weakened wreck. He was more than certain that Sam's had found itself in a much more unstable state, thanks in partially to him, but he still couldn't help but wonder if everything in front of him was still just another illusion. The fevers his body bore those weeks did not improve the situation any more, and the lack of their usually sentimental words made it even more the harder. He would hear them from time to time, mostly from Dean, but he could never be sure for a fact if the words he would say were true, or if they were just a way to make him feel worse if they in fact held no meaning or emotion behind them.

He felt so tired, so incredibly weak, but his mind still insisted that what he was hearing wasn't in fact a lie, and his fluttering heart insisted that he needed to listen. Even through the pressure mounting in his head, the injuries that had riddled his body, and even the sufferings of torment he endured in his endless hours of nightmarish sleep, he always held onto their words. Much like the hope he had held onto as he waited for them. Waited for their help, in what he thought would be their final hurdle.

…_He had been wrong, so very wrong_. The weeks that followed had been rough, desperate; the days and nights filled with screams coming both from him and the remnants of the souls he once tirelessly possessed.

They had long since left him, but still he felt them there, like a virus pulsing through his blood until they slowly but surely flushed themselves out. Dean was always there, Sam as well sometimes, but rarely did he ever see Bobby whenever he had one of his many countless episodes. The older man would blame it on the fevers, Sam on the nightmares, but Dean on the other hand would never say a word. Why that was, Castiel could never be sure, simply because he never stayed conscious long enough to actually get to ask. Dean would simply give him a nod, as if to assure him that everything would be alright and would lay a hand on his fevered forehead or bruised shoulder to prove it to him. He always relished those moments, hung onto to them for dear life every time he slipped back into the darkness. They seemed to be the only form of light he could find, and he always found that they brought some form of faith in him, even if it seemed like a false one.

The injuries eventually healed, the bandages on his left cheek being removed after just a few days, the ones taped around his ribs just a few weeks after, but the ones wrapped around his left leg and right wrist had to stay on much longer to ensure that the broken bones in them healed correctly. He had never experienced such physical pain before, but figured that it was normal for someone who was human.

That had been another result of his actions.

Once the brothers had found their way in and had pulled him out of his torment, they found that the souls had completely destroyed his grace and left him as nothing but a shattered and delicate mortal being. It was his consequence, but it would seem that they would not be the only ones.

He began to notice it just months after, his lapse of missed moments that would leave him feeling weak, shaky and sick. He had hidden it well, considering that the brothers rarely kept an eye on him after he was finally capable of physically taking care of himself. He had discovered that they were fainting spells, followed by a small occasional nosebleed at times, but were rare and far between. There had only been one instance where Dean had seen it, Castiel walking around the salvage yard and returning to the house only to find the hunter standing on the porch and noticing the small trail of blood starting to seep from his nose. He had asked him about it, Castiel refusing to mention the headache and sudden dizziness he was experiencing at that time, and simply stated that he had run into something because he wasn't paying attention. He left it at that.

He wiped it away with the edge of his sleeve, the dark sweater quickly removing any trace as he walked past him and through the door, making his way up to his room and locking himself inside.

He could feel his heart fluttering a little, almost as if it was struggling to keep a normal rhythm, but after just a few minutes of laying motionless on the bed it steadied, along with his slightly shaky breathing and pulse pounding dizziness that blacked him out for only a few seconds. The small round of retching after that had been the first time, as this latest episode slowly regressed. He had left it at that, but lately similar incidents had been becoming more frequent. He still hid them well, even when he didn't intend to, but it seemed that his time had finally run out and his control over the situation had finally refused to go unnoticed.

So here he stood, staring up at the pentagram currently welded in the panic rooms ceiling and relishing in its simplicity. He could recall the moment the symbol had first been made, even though his memories of millennia's past had slowly but surely started to fade away from him. He barely remembered his days as an angel sometimes, but there was always something to remind him. Unfortunately, today would not be one of those cherished days, but instead, a day that would unfold into another personal nightmare for him to endure, as well as a long awaited test.

He could feel it the moment his heart started to flutter, his breathing start to shorten, and his limbs begin to shake. His mind started to blank on him, the sharp pain creeping up his brow only growing worse with the light from above blinding him. He thought, that maybe it was now his time to finally say goodbye and find his peace in rest, wherever it may be.

It was these thoughts that had led to this event. He couldn't figure out why. Or perhaps, he couldn't figure out how it had taken so long to reach.

He didn't get a chance to ask himself, as his body began to seize.

**To Be Continued…**

**Authors End Note:** Wrote this in just 3 hours and couldn't help but wonder what was going through my head when I read through it. I don't think I've ever gotten so personal and mentally into something like this, but I rather enjoyed the challenge to myself. I shall wait patiently for your response and thank you for your support and reviews.


	3. Chapter 3

**Authors Note:** Well, after much consideration I have decided that I _will_ be including Claire Novak more into this story than intended. I rather like the idea that I plan to use for her, and I will also include Amelia for a very small scene. It's still up in the air, but it is more than likely she'll be around too for a small snippet. Also, I need your help with another piece of the plot. I'm not sure about another certain aspect about this story and that is the slash part. Even though I did plan on something meaningful to build (the first chapter will stay as is), I'm just not so sure about it anymore if I want to keep this piece as canon as possible. I plan on finishing this before the season premiere, so hopefully I can get this done by then. I'll leave the decision up to you guys, but I will ultimately decide what I think works best. You know how. Thank you again.

**Written:** 07 September

**Soundtrack:** Breathe into Me by RED

**Word Count: **1900+

"_Therefore all things whatsoever ye would that men should do to you, do ye even so to them: for this is the law and the prophets."_

Matthew 7:12 – The Bible

**Chapter 3**

_Dean was conflicted. More than just a little._

_He still hated Cas. _Hated_ him. And yet he felt that he couldn't hold onto that hate for very long. But it somehow always found its way back. Maybe it was his pride. Maybe it was guilt, or sympathy. But the man he had once come to view as a good friend and adversary had betrayed his trust, ruined it, but in return he always managed to screw things up himself. He knew that already. His friend had saved him. Torn him away from his sins and evils, and yet, that fact still wasn't enough. Not enough to sway his judgment when first and foremost, Sam's wellbeing came first. Sam was angry, almost bitter, and Dean didn't want that anymore than he did. But fact was fact. Cas had betrayed them, in the worst possible way, and Dean wasn't sure if he would be able to forgive. Not this time. _

_Still, Dean couldn't help the feelings still building in his chest. Feelings that lay ignored for the past four years, only to build more and more as more time passed. He had known, knew that something had been wrong within his friend, that he himself was conflicted on some level. Yet he chose to ignore it. He focused more on his own anger. His own hatred. His own feelings of guilt and madness as he fought to keep himself from finding a way back into Hell to retrieve his little brother. Sam had made a choice, and Dean had had to accept it. That didn't mean he wanted to. So, he did what he always did. He put up a front, and ignored everything that told him otherwise, radiating from his very soul. He felt these things, didn't know how, and at this point in the situation, didn't care to figure out. Cas was on his own now, and he just had to accept that._

_Only Dean wasn't sure if he could._

_Not just sure if Cas could. And there lay the problem. Dean couldn't find the strength to make that move either. Castiel still needed him, very much like Dean had once always needed him, if not even greater. And this is what terrified him. He knew it. Knew it for a fact. But neither one would say anything, do anything, and Dean found himself crumbling at that. His friend needed his help, knew that he was the person he could turn to. And yet…he never did. He let him wallow in his own self despair, and it was only to keep up appearances. He did it all, for Sam._

…

Dean was driving. The Impala was always his own soul comfort that never gave him any lip, or troubles, or even forced his hand into making decisions that he wasn't ready to make. Yet, today was no different than any other day. He still felt the guilt, still knew the dread that he carried was buried deep within him, creeping its ugly head at him every chance it got. And it was always the same thing, the same words that haunted his mind since the moment he heard them. He knew them to be the truth, and not just because he was hearing them from a little girl who had once found herself in their position. She had known, and he couldn't for the life of him figure out how. Claire Novak, a young woman that he hadn't known for more than 2 hours had changed a whole aspect in his life, and he found himself constantly questioning it. How he hated it, so very much.

"_He loves you."_

Dean couldn't deny that. Castiel loved Dean. Dean loved him back. He just didn't understand the type of love that was though. How could he love someone who had hurt him so badly? Betrayed him like he did. But right then she just had to remind him of the obvious fact, the one still bombarding his mind and always granted him an excuse.

"_He _saved_ you. It's your turn to save him now."_

Damn her. Damn that little girl, who now seemed far more wiser than he ever looked. And Dean knew that he didn't look very wise. Didn't feel much like it right now either.

It had now been a year. A whole freakin' year since his rescue, but to Dean is still felt like yesterday. It had been the moment that God had actually answered their prayers, just that once, and enabled he and his brother to go in and take him out. To save Cas, and take him away from the souls. Only Dean hadn't been expecting what he'd see. He expected a power hungry, unrecognizable being that had once been his friend, and this girls father. What he saw instead was someone shattered and broken, teetering on the edge of life, and what appeared to be his sanity. The moment he approached him, tried to assure him that everything would be okay now, the angel flinched, trying pathetically to get away from him even though his limbs were bloodied and mind broken. Whatever had happened to him, Dean knew that it couldn't be good, especially if the look in those dull blue orbs held more pain than he had ever seen someone carry. They told a story of hurt, guilt, but above all of sadness. A deep shallow depression that he never expected to witness from the one person he thought could take it all.

_He had been wrong, so very wrong._

Dean carried him, all the while assuring him that he would take care of him, but in the end had let him down. Physically he had done what he could, waited patiently for weeks as he recovered, but mentally and emotionally, Dean couldn't even find himself to try. The hurt was still too much, and he found his anger flaring more and more every day. Only now, he wasn't sure if it was towards him…or towards himself. Dean just didn't know anymore. When he found himself in these such moments, he always went out for a drive, hoping that it would bring some form of relief. He knew that Cas had his roof, Dean his car, but neither one seemed to bring relief to the other. But still, he took a chance and went anyway, hoping that today would be different. It never was, but still he hung on to that hope. More so than anything else at that moment.

* * *

><p>Dean eventually found his way back, pulling into the driveway of the Singer salvage yard when another one of those miserable feelings punched through his gut. He found his hands physically shaking against the wheel, and wondered if maybe all the emotions he had been bottling up were now catching up to him. He ignored it as always as he stepped out, finding that the feeling didn't even last as he took the few feet towards the house. He knew that Sam and Bobby were inside, but wasn't sure if Cas was. Sometimes he would leave, go nowhere in particular, just go out to walk around the salvage yard. But he always did return, frankly because he had no choice. They still felt pity towards the man, even if it didn't really matter to them anyway.<p>

Dean walked in, found his brother and father figure right where he expected them; the kitchen and the study. One with a book, the other with a beer, but still there nonetheless. He had the strong urge to ask for Cas, but decided against it and went about his way. None of them ever talked about him, but Dean knew that they would have to break that cycle sometime. They couldn't go around ignoring the man forever.

Dean made his way downstairs towards the panic room, recalling so many bad memories, but memories nonetheless that never seemed to let him go. He recalled Sam's detox, both times, and then Cas' when they had pulled him out from the souls. Sam's had been bad, but Cas' had been so much worse. He would lay waste to himself half the time, screaming in bloody horror almost every day until his voice went out. Whatever he had been imagining had obviously scared him, but Dean put his wall up each and every time and chose to ignore it. Again, for the sake of his brother, who seemed more heartless than he ever did when he was soulless. Dean still couldn't believe that it had come that far. From both their sides.

He made his way down the final steps, his feet almost shuffling as he took the final few feet towards the panic room, but found that the space was already occupied. There stood Cas, staring up at the ceiling towards the light that entered through it, studying the pentagram welded just above him. He almost seemed to have a smile on his face, but Dean quickly ignored it as he made his way to turn back around. It had still been this bad, that he couldn't even be in the same room with him, but that was how damaged their relationship had now become. Dean didn't care to be near him, made him physically sick each and every time, but again he had to remind himself that he had no other choice. It was either that or open a whole world of problems. And those issues, very much and too close to deal with. He wasn't ready, and again, he knew that he couldn't ignore them forever. He just didn't want to deal with them _now_.

Just as he was about to make his way back up the stairs, a noise right behind him made him think twice and stop, an unknown panic now surging through his stomach as he looked back, only in time to see Castiel suddenly drop. His body started convulsing, his limbs now completely working on their own as he lost control. Dean felt his own limbs going numb, his legs suddenly feeling like lead as he watched his friend fall into a seizure. He wanted to scream, run, do anything, but found that his voice and body were faltering, much like Cas' own. He could hear the harsh beating of his heart in his ears, almost like a drum, and finally, after what seemed like a lifetime, his eyes widened and his legs forced him to move, running through the basement and into the panic room where Castiel was now completely catatonic. His knees slid on the concrete, calloused hands forcing themselves on either side of Cas' face as Dean shouted, begging him to look at him as his forearms held down his quivering chest, but found his blue eyes to be empty. His lips trembled, teeth chattered, skin paling and clamming, and Dean knew, _felt_, that he was losing him. He wanted to scream, whether to him or to himself, he didn't know. He only knew that that was what he wanted to do at that moment. Till he couldn't shout anymore. Instead, he did what he should have done a long time ago, as he watched his friend shake helplessly in front of him.

_Dean only hoped, that he would be able to forgive himself after this. If by some miracle, God would give him the chance. He felt the tears welling from his eyes, and it only took a moment to see, that Cas had been shedding his own as well._

"SAM!"

"BOBBY!"

**To Be Continued…**

**Authors End Note:** Another 2000 words in less than 2 hours, even I gotta say I'm impressed with myself since I find that I get so into this. Still creeps me out though lol. Anyways, if anyone is wondering about the bible verses in the chapters, I'll be honest, I'm not a religious person like, at all, but I found that they just added a really nice touch so I decided to input them with each view. Hence my decision to use them. I hope no one minds. As always, review please.


	4. Chapter 4

**Authors Note:** So based on the responses I have gotten so far I have one voting yes for slash, and the other voting no basically. Yeah guys, that doesn't give me much to work with lol, so I'll be throwing the ball around on this one, even though I'm already pretty sure where I'll actually be heading with it. By the way, get ready for the plot to start unfolding around here, now that I've actually figured it out. It's gonna hurt, _bad_. Can we say, more lies and secrets are gonna bubble to the surface. And probably not from where ya think. That's enough teasers for one day. Warning for intensity of chapter. ;P

**Written:** 09 September

**Soundtrack:** Not Alone by RED

**Word Count:** 3200+

"_The Lord is a God of knowledge, and by Him actions are weighed."_

Samuel 2:3 – The Bible

**Chapter 4**

_Sam was miserable. Wanted to stay miserable, but wasn't sure he could do that much longer after knowledge passed down to him weeks ago was received. After today, he wasn't sure he could do it all anymore. He didn't know what was right and wrong anymore._

_The wall had been broken. Not just the one in his head, but the one in his heart as well, and Sam felt torn. He knew Dean felt torn, which only made _him_ feel worse. He knew Dean, better than anyone else, or at least until Castiel touched his soul that is. Sam never knew it, but he felt almost jealous at the fact of someone else getting so personal with his brother. So much so that the actions of the past year have had him going down a downward spiral. Only someone who Dean had gotten particularly close with could bring that side of him out. And it never did come out, not _ever_. So Sam knew what was going on, and he found his own bitterness growing with each day that passed. Not just bitterness for his own problems, but more so for seeing his brother feel so conflicted, looking as if he had to make a choice between his brother and his friend. Family always won, Sam knew that much. Problem was, Castiel had become part of that family now, which made everything only that much harder. It also made Sam that much angrier. He was always angry, always had been deep inside, and he still couldn't figure out why. Perhaps it was because of what had happened to him as an infant, the demon blood starting it all. But he couldn't be sure anymore. He had been angry for a very _long_ time. He couldn't even remember a time not being so, even with Jess. It always lingered, deep down in his soul. This latest pang of guilt however, only had it becoming worse._

_Sam knew that it was wrong, but still his bitterness prevailed, even more so with every memory of Hell that came back to haunt him. He always held onto them, no matter how much he tried to run he held on, and it was only for the selfish reason of reminding him why he could never forgive Castiel. It was selfish, but it was his reason. Sam was always the first to forgive, always the first to try and look past things, but life had showed him just how much of a fool he could be with such trivialities, and chose this time to ignore all the rules, all his doubts. Castiel had betrayed them, and that was that._

_So then why was he still fighting all these doubts? Weeks ago he couldn't give a shit, could care less, and made sure that their former ally knew how much he regretted him being around. How much he _hated_ him right now. For letting him recall Hell, for letting him remember all the things he had done the whole year he had been soulless. He focused all his anger on him and him alone, and only when that one visit so many weeks past from that one simple person changed his view, he had no idea what to see now. What to believe._

"_You're the one who wanted to jump into the Cage in the first place didn't you? So it's your own damn fault."_

_How the Hell she knew, Sam didn't know, although it should have been obvious considering. Still, it only served to leave a hole in his gut at the thought, and caused even more anger to bubble up in his heart. Only now, he didn't know where that anger was gearing towards. Either him, or to Castiel. Again, considering that the angel had gone to retrieve his soul, but had left it behind only served a purpose in his mind, and that was to feel resentful towards him. Not himself. It was his fault for not noticing it sooner, for not seeing that he had left his soul behind in the Pit with Michael and Lucifer. So then why did he keep questioning it? Why did he keeping asking himself over and over again if what he was doing was right? Was it for _their_ benefit, or was it for his own? Sam didn't know anymore, and frankly, he didn't care to either. He just wanted to stay in this moment, and never once step out._

_He was afraid of what would happen if he did._

…

Sam spent as much time with Dean and Bobby as he could, recovering from the wall breaking and fighting hard to keep it all together. He would hallucinate, imagine things that weren't actually there and scenes that weren't actually happening. It was troublesome, to say the least, but it was what he had earned himself considering the fact. Hell had been a nightmare, even more so than it was for Dean, but only to an extent. Dean had been on the rack, tortured souls shortly after, but Sam had been in the lion's den, trapped with two of the most powerful beings in existence and torn to shreds by them. He could still recall those memories, the hardest ones to block actually, and it made him physically sick each and every time. Imagining his blood seeping from his skin, his muscles being pulled apart, his bones being broken piece by piece, only to be put back together and have it happen all over again. It was Hell. Pure, honest to God Hell, and he was another issue that Sam was having to deal with. God. God had asked them to save his son, to look past their grief's, when He in return had never once answered any of their prayers. Again, Sam fought to keep himself together, but ultimately decided that this would be his final straw. He would do as was asked, but that would be the end of it for him.

They saved him, saved Castiel from his own perdition and got him out, but not before the souls had caused their damage on him. Sam could see it, see it through the empty eyes of his soul, and he couldn't be sure, whether he felt sorry for him or not. Sam knew that Dean was, he had only need to look, but he knew. Dean was in pain, not because of what they knew for sure they would still need to get through, but because of what he knew Cas had yet to face. He had already gone through so much, his appearance had made that obvious, but it didn't matter. The war wasn't over for him. It was only just beginning.

Sam really wished that time to be wrong, but sadly, he wasn't.

His nightmares had stopped being so petrifying for months now, but Cas' just seemed to be so much worse. He would scream in bloody torment, each day and night the same as the last, until he was either too weak to continue or his voice was too hoarse to even try. There were even moments where Bobby would suggest putting him down, just so it could stop, but Dean would have none of it, fearing that the drugs would trap him even deeper and that by the time he came to, he would be lost to them. Even with their betrayal still buried so deep within them, Dean was protective, but only until Castiel was able to recover on his own. It took weeks, which spanned into months, but still it got easier, if only just a little. After that, he was on his own.

Sam took joy in that, knowing that he was no longer their problem, even if he still stuck around because he had nowhere else to go. Heaven didn't want him, and Hell had had its way with him, so naturally, there was no other choice in the matter. Castiel had been dropped into their lap, and all because one little girl had begged it of them, to save him. Claire Novak. She had made Sam see the light, if only for a little bit, but still the darkness was stronger, and only then did he wish to grab onto it. Sam knew he was stubborn, it was natural in Winchesters, but even he knew, that this was crossing the line.

"_He loves you."_

Sam knew, that she wasn't just talking about Dean.

* * *

><p>Sam didn't know anything anymore. He was finished, at the end of his rope, and only some form of resolve would be able to clear his still spinning thoughts. Funny how that want, that need to let it all go would be found in one thing and one thing only. He just never expected it to be his brother screaming out to him.<p>

Sam immediately shot up from the table, his beer almost spilling across the countertop as he sprinted downstairs towards the panic room. Sam knew that voice, knew that Dean only used it when he was scared, frightened. The last had been when a knife had been driven into his back. This time however, it wasn't him he was screaming for, and Sam knew. He felt his heart beat faster as he sprinted down the stairs two at a time, trying not to trip but still trying to cut down his time. He didn't know why he should even care, but something told him, that this was the moment where he would finally have to make a choice.

Sam made it downstairs in just seconds, Bobby trailing just behind him as both men stopped to see the scene currently unfolding in front of them. Dean was in the panic room, attempting to keep himself together as well as the currently seizing ex-angel writhing just below him. Sam felt his own panic swirling, the moment he saw Dean turn to him in desperate plea for their help. He wasn't just frightened, but downright terrified, and Sam knew that now was his true moment of judgment. Castiel continued seizing, his arms spread out beside him as his brother fought hard to keep him from hurting himself, his nails already bleeding from where he had tried grasping onto the concrete floor. Sam swallowed hard before making the final few feet over to them and quickly stepping down beside his brother, placing a firm hand on Castiel's left shoulder while the other braced his right arm. Dean's hands remained where they were, grasped firmly on either side of the angels face and arms holding down on his chest. His seizing was perhaps minimal now, but the moment Sam called out to him, watching his breath hitch and eyes leaking, all hell finally broke loose. Sam placed himself over him, trying to help the former angel to cease, but the moment he saw him, Sam knew that it had been a mistake.

Sam never thought he'd see that emptiness again, so much so like the one he was seeing now, and deep down, he understood. He knew what was happening, and it only caused the flood gates within his own soul to breech, until they finally parted and collapsed. One look from him, and Sam knew. Castiel was about to break.

"Sam?"

Castiel's voice sounded so small, so broken, but it was nothing compared to what was about to happen next. He started seizing again, harder this time, and Sam found that he actually started feeling sorry. Castiel started screaming, arms and legs flailing uncontrollably as his head tossed back and his eyes squeezed shut. He shouted, clawed at the two of them to get away but found his efforts useless as both Sam and Dean attempted to hold him down. Both shouted to him, Sam calling his name while Dean begged him to calm down, but their efforts were futile. Castiel continued to scream, louder than he ever did when he was recovering, and it still sounded so inhuman. He was sobbing, begging and pleading to someone to stop, and each scream he gave was followed by a desperate 'no' and an even more desperate beg of 'stop'. Dean didn't understand, didn't know where this behavior was suddenly coming from, but if Castiel looked this terrified then he could bet that this was something bigger than the two of them actually knew.

Bobby remained where he was, hand grasping at the edge of the doorway as Castiel continued to protest, screaming bloody horror as he continued to weep and beg for absolution. He was desperate, and whatever monsters were currently haunting him were not willing to let him go. Not this time.

Dean continued holding onto him, begging Cas to open his eyes but knew that his words were falling on deaf ears. The shaking only continued getting worse, so much so that Dean was more than sure that Castiel was going to die from this. There was just too much tremor, too much instability, and he for a fact recognized death when he saw it. He didn't want this. No matter how many issues they may have had between them he knew that this wasn't worth it. This hurt, this self loathe, any form of betrayal, no matter how big was not worth all of this. And deep down, he knew it.

Castiel continued shaking, screaming, begging, his chest arching upwards as he desperately tried to let himself go, but it was of no use as the memories of everything he had suffered came clawing back at him and ripped him apart. The strongest memory was also the most dangerous, and Castiel found himself shatter at the recollection of it. The day he went to retrieve, and lost Sam's soul. He should have seen it sooner, should have recognized his mistake right then and there. But he was so distracted with desperation at everything else that was happening around him, he had never cared to notice. That had been his mistake, and deep down, Castiel knew it. This was his punishment, his just reward; it was only fitting for all the pain he had caused, and he expected for all of it to be over for him. Now, once and for all. Still, he didn't expect for what would happen next.

He felt a strong arm push itself beneath him, grasping firmly at his shoulders and another around his waist. The hands planted on his face remained but slowly moved away as he felt his body being pulled towards someone else. His screams had suddenly stopped erupting, his limbs now feeling like dead weight falling off him, but still his tears continued to shed. He could hear the shouts of the brothers calling to him, urging him to relax, as his weight was shifted into the arms of another. His arms remained at his sides, simply hanging there as he was pressed firmly against Sam's chest, arms cradling him delicately as he was pulled into his lap. Castiel suddenly felt like sleeping, his body tired and mind numbing, the screams still echoing but no longer coming. He closed his eyes as his weight was adjusted, Sam repositioning his legs as he pulled him closer, trying to keep him calm. Castiel was tired, mind exhausted and voice cracked from his most recent episode. This one had been his heaviest, more so than the simple fainting spells and constant headaches. This one had been lingering, and had been for a long time.

He simply lay there, feeling precious heat press itself against his right arm and chest as his body continued shaking, a voice softly telling him to shush, and whispering to him that it was okay. Castiel didn't know in what he was referring to, to what Sam was responding to, but he finally understood as he heard the words whispering through his shaking lips, his sobs quieting but still clearly heard in his pleas. He begged him, both of them, that this would be the end of it all. He couldn't take much more, and he finally felt, that he had had enough.

"I'm sorry Sam. I'm so sorry."

His breath hitched with each confession he gave, praying that he would be forgiven after all the pain that he had caused. It was only right, but he knew, that the decision would not be up to him. But oh how he _prayed_.

"It's okay Cas." Sam shushed him, keeping his eyes on the former angel currently fighting to stay awake in front of him. Even through half lidded eyes, Sam could see him struggling to come back. "It's okay. It's over now. It's okay."

Sam didn't know to what he was referring to, but deep down he thought that maybe he could understand as he ran a hand through the angels dark hair, his other still wrapped firmly around his thin frame. He held onto him, almost desperately as the shakes started to recede and his cries started to die down. Dean could only stare at him, watching as his little brother tried to keep their friend together, and maybe even himself.

Sam didn't know what to think right now.

It was funny, how this moment of all times had him recalling a quote from Peter McWilliams: _Guilt is anger directed at ourselves_. Of all the times to think about it. In all honestly, what better proof of such a personal turmoil than the one he was experiencing right now unfolding in front of him. He never noticed it, that all this time he had been angry at him, Castiel had been even more angry, at himself. Funny, because he never cared to notice what was obviously right in front of him. That seemed to be a common problem amongst them lately.

"I'm sorry Sam."

Castiel whispered so softly it was barely heard, but Sam thought it was loud enough, and only responded by tugging him even closer. He was afraid that if he held on any less, that Castiel would only fall apart, like delicately molded glass. Castiel was right, right to be sorry for so very many things, but Sam knew that he couldn't keep blaming everything on him, the body currently trembling against his own finally finding some form of peace in some small measure. It was all he had to hang onto, and Sam figured, decided actually, that he would grant him that small request. The two of them deserved at least that much.

"I'm sorry too Cas. I'm really sorry."

Sam heard nothing other than his breath hitch, Castiel trying to hold back a sob as he finally felt a small form of freedom bleed into his heart. He had finally been forgiven, if even just a little, but at least it was a step towards something better than what they had been going through. Castiel could finally find some peace, and had fortunately found it in the darkness now enveloping him, in the arms of the one man whom he had hurt the most and in so many more ways. He had failed him, failed both of them, and his only plea was that he would finally be given the opportunity to fix what he had broken.

He would now earn his forgiveness, and hopefully retrieve their friendship.

Sam knew his answer now. He had to forgive. It wouldn't be easy. But it was possible.

He only hoped, that he could be forgiven now, for this new secret he was keeping. If there was any betrayals that they would have to get over now, it would have to be his own. Sam knew this time, that his anger, was now directed at himself.

**To Be Continued…**

**Authors End Note: **What's this? Is someone hiding something from his brother, _again_? Shocker. But seriously? Who is this mystery woman Sam speaks of, and what exactly is he hiding? *note sarcastic questioning* I'll let you guys wait to figure that out, although I may not be waiting for long. You know what to do. Feedback is appreciated. Expect someone whom we haven't seen in a while make an appearance next chapter, although only just a small one. For now. She'll be a big part of this story from here on out, and expect some back lashing from this little one. She can be a firecracker if you piss her off. ;D


	5. Chapter 5

**Authors Note:** So I came to a compromise here and decided that the content in regards to slash will be *drumroll*…pre-slash _only_. So sorry, but there will **not** be anything graphic since I want to keep this as canon as possible. Yes, there will be a physical scene, if chapter one didn't already prove that, but that's it. Just so I can answer all your messages and requests right here. My reason behind this decision is so that I can slowly ease my way into my slash verse (which I promised a dear friend here that I would post MONTHS ago and have unfortunately failed to) simply because my insecurities have prevented that. My warning enough for it is like a good 500 words (that's also in part to cover my ass lol). Anyways, I promised her that I would release it after this story was finished so, even though I still need to work on my first verse, my brain currently has it dead in the water, even though the entire plot to all four parts has already been written out. Ugh. I fear my inspiration to continue it has been trampled by the second verse, so I apologize to anyone who has been waiting. It may take awhile to get it back on track. Enough dawdling, onto the chapter now! :D

**Written:** 12 September

**Soundtrack:** In the End by Linkin Park

**Word Count:** 3200+

"_Seek peace, and pursue it._"

Proverbs 34:14 – The Bible

**Chapter 5**

_Their world seemed to completely stop at that moment. Like a drop of rain, suddenly hanging in midair before its inevitable fall to the ground below…_

…_His heart was a blockade, shielded in stone and concrete and rock. But the thing about rain is this. It's water. It can seep through stone, weather away concrete and even slip through rock. Even steel cannot surpass the power of water, for it is melted away by it in its most precious form. So even if you have the most powerful defenses at your disposal, no matter how indestructible they appear to be, a single drop of water, can waste it all away. It can wash away our resistance, no matter how strong. Whether it be a raindrop…_

…_or a tear._

_Bobby wasn't stupid. He wasn't blind either. He knew it. Hell he saw it, the self destruction that none of them cared to acknowledge, simply because they just didn't want to. Bobby had been expecting this for a long time. He just never expected it to turn out this way and in this desperate of times. He was still hurting, heck, they all were, but it was never beyond his knowledge that Castiel was hurting just as much. If not more. He had lost his home, his brothers, and now their friendship, without ever a chance of gaining it all back. Bobby knew that. Still, he allowed his resentment to take over and completely ignore the fact that he now had nothing. No friends, no family, and no reason to be living. He might as well just have killed himself, and Bobby silently prayed that it never actually came to that._

_It's the reason why he was doing something about it now._

_Bobby wasn't an idiot. This could only have happened from something deep building up, for more than just a while now, and only something this severe could finally rear its ugly head and in this fashion. Bobby knew this. Whatever it was that was happening to Castiel, the young man whom he had once considered a son much like he did Sam and Dean, couldn't have been good, and sure as hell wasn't just happening out of the blue. He was hiding something, holding onto it, if he even knew what it was that is, and it was slowing eating him alive. This had been a long time coming, and Bobby completely ignored what his brain told him to do. Instead, he listened to the one thing he hadn't in almost twelve long months. He ignored the protests in his head, and instead listened to the words in his heart._

_Whatever this was, Castiel obviously couldn't be left at it alone. It would kill him before he even got the chance to try and survive it._

_Bobby had lost enough of his boys in this lifetime. Damn anyone to Hell who tried to do it again, even if it was at their own stupid, miserable hands. He still had his issues as well as his doubts, but there was always tomorrow to hash them out._

_He just hoped that there still was a tomorrow._

…_It was funny, how he thought what his late wife would do at that moment. He could have sworn that he had even heard her whispering to him, just now._

* * *

><p>No one said a word. Simply because they didn't know what to say at this point. It seemed like the whole damn universe had halted in front of them; their angers, their fears, and even their triumphs suddenly colliding all at once and making it to this one point in their lives. None of them knew how long they sat there, Sam continuing to look down at an unconscious, slightly trembling Castiel still braced desperately in his lap, a look of both sorrow and harsh uncertainty clear on his face. Castiel's looked anything but, more a mix of a frightened child battling nightmares as he slept, and of slight relief as if a ten ton weight had been lifted from his shoulders. It was complicating, in both their aspects, but it was over and done with nonetheless.<p>

_It was about fuckin' time too_.

Dean simply kept his usual concentrated façade, watching both his brother and former angel together as if they were part of some elaborate masterpiece. This moment just couldn't be imagined, not in a thousand years, but somehow they had managed to reach it and Dean could only feel relief at its simplicity. He felt happy, but also worried, for God knew what was bound to happen next. It meant that after an entire year of nothing but ignorance, stubbornness and vengeful rage, it looked like the first step had finally been taken to get all the crap out of the way and to move on with their lives. That usually ended in tragedy, anytime the chance of redemption presented itself, but Heaven forbid that was going to happen here. The opportunity had been there countless times, always standing there in front of them, but they just never seemed to want to take the first step. All it took was the final meltdown of their friend to bring them all together, and Dean only wished, that it didn't ultimately lead to more pain.

_They had had their fair share of it already. All of them_.

…

Sam had remained where he was, staying until he was sure Castiel was fast asleep and the shakes had stopped completely. It had taken some time but he didn't dare move, the feared chance of another outburst like the one before buried deep in the back of his own mind. Only after a little while did he finally decide that it was safe to pick him up, and with one arm still safely under his shoulders, Sam moved his other from around his waist and circled it under his knees. With Dean's watchful eyes, he carefully lifted him up from the cold ground, positioning him more comfortably in his arms before slowly turning around to take him upstairs. Bobby had long since disappeared, more than likely to make preparations of some kind to help.

The moment they took the final steps up and reached the kitchen, sure enough there was Bobby, standing in front of the table with his contact book laid wide open and the cordless phone sitting just beside it. There was only one person they could think of to call in these types of situations, when a hospital was simply out of the question. Technically it was the smart move to make, considering the circumstances, but in this case the last thing they needed was Cas shouting more obscene things about Hell and souls and monsters, and have him admitted into a completely different type of hospital. They had enough problems on their plate, which only made Sam and Dean ever more relieved for the fact that Bobby had connections just about everywhere.

"Bobby."

"Dean, the boy just had a seizure on my floor. Now I know that we may still be pissed off at him but even I'm not that heartless." Bobby's voice was mostly blank, except for the stern tone hanging just off the end of it. He remained where he stood, sitting against the table with his arms folded across his chest as if to prove a point. "She'll be here in fifteen minutes."

Dean almost wanted to smile, but in the end decided better of it. Instead he slowly walked off and started up the stairs with Sam just behind him, while Bobby simply watched them ascend carefully with their friend. Bobby couldn't help but feel proud of those boys, even if they weren't technically his. As a parent those instincts were always precious and dear to you. He may not have had any children of his own, but they pretty much made up for that when it counted. Strange how he was thinking about all three of them rather than just the two brothers.

* * *

><p>As promised, Andrea Altec arrived at the Singer home in just minutes and was immediately taken upstairs to check on Castiel. The doctor was an old friend of Bobby's, a caramel eyed, sandy brown haired woman in her early forties who worked at the local hospital in Sioux Falls. She had also been a hunter, but had given up the lifestyle shortly after to focus more on her <em>professional<em> profession. Not that she wasn't a professional at hunting either, which she now only did part-time.

What had been explained to her by the brothers had been pretty vague, mostly because they didn't exactly know what it was they were dealing with.

She did understand however and after carefully considering the possibilities, informed them that Castiel's episode could have been caused by a number of things. Unfortunately though, her money was going on the notion that this had been a provoked seizure, that whatever emotions the former angel had been bottling up from their year long feud had more than likely finally reached its limits, hence causing a psychological breakdown and a _powerful_ one at that.

_Needless to say, that had all three of them feeling a little like crap._

Sam and Dean were asked to wait outside as she and Bobby remained with Castiel in his room, so he could help her.

Castiel was lying on his right side, body now shivering slightly as she pushed away the blanket and carefully pulled up his shirt to expose his back. She had already checked on his vitals, and even though there were a couple things she didn't like, she deemed everything was within normal enough range for her to continue. To ensure that there wasn't an infection of any kind, considering that his temperature was starting to elevate only slightly, Andrea pulled out a fresh syringe from her bag and carefully swabbed an appropriate amount of anesthetic on the small of his back. Bobby really didn't want to watch this, but her hands were steady as she carefully pierced the tip of the needle into his skin and slowly started to extract some of Castiel's spinal fluid. Holding the vile against the light she saw that it was clear, which was always a good sign, but had to test it just to make sure.

After cleaning away the remaining anesthetic and pulling his shirt back down, she then braced one hand on his left arm while the other fell to his shoulder, carefully flipping him onto his back with Bobby's help. She still needed to extract blood, so after quickly preparing his arm and disinfecting the skin over the vein with alcohol, another needle was pierced through his skin and the vile was filled soon enough. Again, there didn't appear to be any abnormalities, but it would have to be tested just to be sure.

She quickly pocketed the fluids away and removed her gloves to toss them, while Bobby replaced the blanket over Cas. He was still shivering, his teeth now chattering quietly as he took small breaths and his head rolled to the side. Bobby didn't like the way he was shaking, and went to the closet to grab as many blankets as he could spare to place on top of him.

Andrea turned around and looked over at Bobby, recommending that even though she had preferred Castiel be in the hospital right now, that he and the brothers needed to watch over him throughout the night just in case of anything. There was always the possibility of another seizure, or even worse, shock if there were any other imbalances that they were not yet aware of. "Just try and make him as comfortable as possible Bobby. I don't need to warn you about what could happen if there isn't someone supervising him."

Bobby didn't even want to think about it. "Thanks Andy."

"You're welcome Bobby." She whispered softly and picked up her things to leave. She gave one last glance at the former angel still lying motionless on the bed and silently prayed that everything with them would be okay, before opening the door and walking out. She gave the brothers standing just outside in the hallway one final look, before finally turning to leave. "Please, call me if anything happens."

"Will do Doc." Dean answered firmly, adamantly, as if she had been asking him to guard his life. "Thanks for your help."

She simply nodded her head and smiled, quietly ascending down the stairs and eventually leaving the house through the front door.

Dean tilted his head to Sam as if to ask him if he was going in, and he quietly followed him as both the brothers went inside to check up on their friend. Needless to say, Cas looked like he had had better days, but at least he was still alive which always counted for something. Bobby was in the bathroom, rinsing a small dish towel in the sink with warm water before turning off the tap and walking back over to the bed. Sam and Dean were already aware about the fact that Castiel would need looking after, and silently decided that it would be Dean who would take the first watch.

Sam quietly stepped outside to retrieve a glass of water and some aspirin just in case when Cas woke up, while Bobby reached over and draped the compress neatly over his forehead and around his head. The heat would hopefully help with the shaking, and not long after both men started to actually notice a difference in him. Castiel no longer looked troubled, simply just exhausted, and all three of them could only feel if not a little at ease at the fact, even if there was always a chance of danger lurking just around the corner.

Sam and Bobby eventually left the room, leaving Dean to play nursemaid until one of them came to relieve him in just a few hours. Dean didn't mind, simply because it was about damn time somebody cared to pay attention, and assured that he would be fine to stay with him throughout the night if need be. Castiel was his friend, even with his actions from a year ago, he still considered him a friend, even if their relationship wasn't as close as it had once been. Dean promised himself that he wouldn't let that get in the way though, at least for now.

"Andrea's gonna have my head on a pike if we let something happen. Holler if you need anything."

Dean simply smirked from his chair, situated next to the bed. "Don't worry Bobby. I know how to sit bedside."

Bobby simply nodded and closed the door behind him. With that, both he and Sam went about their business.

Dean simply heaved a sigh as he shifted his weight in the chair, placing his hands in front of him while his elbows rested on his knees. Even it was to be a long night, Dean knew that he would need to talk to Cas about what he was repressing. God knew that it was bound to be a _fuck_ load, but nonetheless he knew that he was partially to blame, and figured that he might as well just get on with it and let it out. He had a lot of things to get off his own chest, some more so than others, but that could all wait until Cas was finished with all of his venting. It had been made obvious, that he was the one that needed to get some things out first.

Castiel finally stabilized late that evening, his shakes stopping, sweats receding and breathing no longer small and labored. He was actually sleeping peacefully, or at least looked like he was.

_Little did they know, that they were not the only ones affected by this. Or the only ones who actually knew about it._

* * *

><p><em>She <em>knew_ something was wrong. She could feel it, just like every other time this heavy weight came to settle over her heart. This time was different though. This feeling had been harsher, deeper, more eloquent than any other time before then, and it scared her. She had known, waited for it to happen, almost like she _knew_ it was coming. And she dreaded it, only for that reason. Because she knew._

_It had been building for months…_

…_She knew that too._

_She couldn't turn away from him. Not now. Not after everything they had shared between each other in the past year, all the words they had exchanged and all the doubts and fears he had confessed. It was hard enough for him already, and there was no way she was going to let him deal with it all on his own. If she let go, then where else was there for him to turn? He had no one else, and he was slipping away._

She decided on the only course of action, and pulled out her phone.

* * *

><p>It was now well into the late evening, Dean slumping slightly in his chair trying not to fall asleep when he heard a faint vibrating coming somewhere from inside the room. His head immediately shot up, looking around for the source of the noise before finally looking over to his right and pinpointing it to the nightstand. Slowly and quietly, he pulled open the top drawer and inside found the old cell phone he had given to Cas just three years earlier. It seemed like a lifetime ago, but Dean actually felt a little lighter at the memories such a small object could bring back. Just as he reached out for it, the device stopped ringing and the screen went black.<p>

Dean looked at it curiously, not even aware that Cas still even had it, and immediately went to finding out who had called.

The moment he opened his contact list, Dean found himself almost frowning. Their numbers were no longer inside it, but his dialed list was _long_, almost endless it seemed, with calls going out to the same number over and over again almost every single day. Some calls had only been a few minutes, but as Dean continued to scroll he found that some had lasted several hours and others well into the night. Most calls had been outgoing, but there was on occasion an incoming call from time to time, almost like precious clockwork. Dean didn't have a clue who Cas had been talking to, _who_ he could possibly be calling, but Dean knew one thing for damn sure. He was going to find out, now.

He pressed his thumb firmly against the 'send' button, returning the call of the number that had just come through and patiently waited for an answer from the other line. It only took two rings, but even Dean never expected it to be who he thought he heard speaking on the other end. It just wasn't possible was it?

"Castiel? Castiel are you okay?"

Dean couldn't say a word, his voice blocking at that moment as he took in the almost panic expression in her voice.

"Castiel?"

Finally Dean spoke, his throat swallowing along with his racing mind as he pressed his lips against the mouth piece and whispered through the speaker. "…Claire?"

He was met with silence on the other end, before she too finally spoke up. "…Dean?"

**To Be Continued…**

**Authors End Note:** Have no idea why, but I always seem to write the deepest shit when it comes to Bobby. Still had a hard time with this chapter though, considering it was such a pain in the ass to write for some weird reason. Oh, and if anyone was wondering about the OC Andrea Altec, yeah, she's originally from my post 6.22 piece "Walls". Just to clear that up. Anyways…review please? I know, I know, Cas can never seem to catch a break with me but hey, at least we got a little darling coming to visit next chapter. ;P


	6. Chapter 6

**Authors Note:** Only one note here. For those of you wondering about the slash part of this story, _pre_-slash means nothing graphic guys. So yeah, chapter one is pretty much as graphic as it's gonna get lol. Let me just clear that up now again so I can answer all your messages at once. 8P Also a HUGE thank you to everyone here for all your alerts and faves, including those directed at my other stories. You guys always put a smile on my face when I see them in my e-mail. Gratci! ;D

**Written:** 14 September

**Soundtrack:** When I Look at You by Miley Cyrus

**Word Count:** 3800+

"_A faithful friend is a strong defense, and he that hath found such a one hath found a treasure."_

Ben Sira 6:14 – The Bible

**Chapter 6**

…_After carrying his burden for so long, she now had the chance to let some of that go. Only she found…that she really didn't want to. It had been entrusted to her, and she felt that in the hands of another, only disaster would come of its handling. He had depended on her when he had no one else. She would stay with him until the inevitable end. This she solemnly swore…_

…

_Claire didn't know whether to be pleased to hear Dean's voice, or to be pissed off at him. She wanted to curse him, scold him, shout him all the mistakes that he had made and all the sufferings that the angel had endured. His treatment wasn't fair, was unkind, was _not_ what Castiel deserved, and even though she knew every detail, felt every emotion, and understood every despair, in the end, she ultimately believed that none of it was worth the desperation the angel had when he went through it all just to protect them. When he went in search for someone to listen._

_He went to seek God, the brothers, his brethren, _anyone_ who would listen, and it was _she_ who had answered his call. She took heed of his prayers, and it was she, who decided that he could not be alone in his most delicate hours. Even after his rescue from his perdition, she still felt his pain, knew his need for absolution, and wept at the lack of his acceptance to keep going. To move on. She felt his despair, his lack of faith, his loss of hope, and even his desire to die, but she in turn begged for the need, the strength to help him through his sufferings, when he in turn had no one else._

_It hurt her _every_ time she heard his pleas. _

_Verbally. _

_Spiritually. _

_Emotionally._

_Each one felt more difficult to carry than the last. Yet still, she held out her hand to take it. It only got harder, as he sank even deeper. _

_She wanted so badly for him to see…_

_Now, his decisions of the past were catching up to him, tearing at his soul and peeling away at his spirit. He had reached his end, his lowest point, and she solemnly swore that she would not let this come to pass. That she simply couldn't, as if she knew she had the will._

_Only now, she wasn't so sure that she could carry this burden alone. Something else was wrong, something she could not understand nor control, and she feared that Castiel was setting himself up for the harshest kind of suffering. Only so he could feel it. Only so he could understand why it had _all_ led to this. So he could hold onto it, just as he had done with her, as if it were his only answer. Something was happening, deep within himself, plaguing his very soul, and even though she had been proven otherwise, she turned over to the power of prayer. Just as her father always did, she prayed, hoping to God that whatever his son was going through, that she would be able to help him escape it. _

_She wanted so desperately to help him find his way to His light._

_If there was any form of miracle that she could desperately want, then this was solely it. She had already lost her father…_

…_For whatever reason, she couldn't bear the thought of losing Castiel either._

_She was now a part of him, just as he had once been a part of her, and had remained to be…even now._

* * *

><p>"Claire, <em>you've<em> been talking to Cas?"

Silence met him first before her whispered words did. "Actually, it's Castiel who's been talking, to me."

Dean felt like a heavy mass had just settled over his chest, sure that it was more than likely his guilt or his shame. Either way, it didn't make it hurt any less. He carefully looked back at Castiel, who was still sleeping silently and peacefully, oblivious to everything around him before slowly taking himself out of the room and closing the door behind him. He stepped out into the hall, careful not to make too much noise so as not to wake the houses other two residences. The air suddenly felt thicker, heavier, almost impossible to breathe in before he heaved a sigh and spoke back into the phone. The line had stayed silent on her end as she waited.

"How long?"

She didn't even want to lie, didn't really see reason to, not when there were so many things she wanted to tell him and so many things he needed to know. Instead, she kept to simple answers; maybe it was to hold herself together, or even to get him to understand her turmoil. Either way, she wanted Dean to figure it out, to see the truth that he had been lying to. She wanted him to take that one step forward, so that he could finally see it all.

_Mentally, she imagined herself _pushing_ him._

"A few months. Almost a year."

Dean didn't know what to feel at that moment, whether relieved or rejected, but knew that whatever it was he should, he had brought it upon himself. He rubbed the back of his neck, unsure of what else to say until she interrupted his thoughts and continued.

"He didn't have anyone else Dean. I'm sorry, but he reached out to me, and I…" He heard her swallow, almost as if she tried holding back tears or even the need to scream, but knew enough to understand what it was that had been going on. They had turned their backs on him, gave him nothing and no one to hold onto or depend on, no one to talk to. She had known, just as he did, and actually cared enough to ignore her own feelings to help him, to hold him up, when all his friends and even his family, now rejected the very sight of him. It had been too much for him to accept, and she in turn, decided to carry some of the weight. Dean couldn't help but think, how strong of a young woman she was, how beautiful it made her, and how pathetic of a man he now seemed. The emotions he could feel her hiding at that moment, only proved it. "Where is Castiel? Is he okay?"

_She already knew the answer, but refused to acknowledge it, not until she heard it from Dean. It was unnecessary, but she already knew. She just wanted to hear it from him. To hear what it was that he had to say._

Dean bit at his top lip before choosing to answer, picking his words very carefully before revealing them to her. _She's testing me_. "He's fine, he's just…" In all honestly, Dean didn't know how to finish that sentence. Castiel was a lot of things, but fine was sure as hell not one of them. Here he was again, lying to himself, just to keep up appearances. Only now, there wasn't anyone around to keep them for. So then who was he trying to fool, at least this time?

"I was his vessel once too remember." Her answer actually surprised him, and if he didn't know any better, he could have sworn he heard a small smile on her face, almost as if she was happy for that memory and for him trying to protect her from the truth. The idea quickly faded however, as her tone changed almost instantly, revealing the thunder hiding just beneath her skin. "I know that something's wrong with him, and you're not telling me."

If he didn't know any better, he'd think that she was angry now, almost hateful. More than likely at him, but not just him. There was Sam, and Bobby too, and everyone else who had turned their backs on Castiel, when he was only trying to save them, to protect them, and even if he was taking the wrong way about it, the fact still remained the same. He was doing it all, just so that _they_ could have another chance at having a tomorrow. And yet, they never cared to look at that.

_They never cared_.

"I'm sorry Claire. I'm just…"

Again, Dean found himself unable to finish, and lowered his head as he passed a hand through his face. He was so confused, internally conflicted, and he didn't know where to start or where to turn. He was stuck, and deep down, he knew that something more was happening right in front him, something that he never cared to acknowledge, and obviously, could no longer ignore. Only he didn't know what that was.

She did however. She had been more than just aware of the situation. She was a part of it, in more of a level than he ever thought possible. She knew what was happening, what had been happening since the very beginning, and she dreaded the fact that Castiel felt so much apart from them now that he couldn't even reveal it. That he couldn't even tell them what it was. That the souls had left something behind, and that it was unfortunately─ no, she couldn't even think about that. Didn't want to. Simply couldn't. The fact alone scared her, and she found herself wanting to break down every wall she had ever built around it at that moment. Just so he could know.

She couldn't however, not if she was to keep the pieces of himself together as well as her own. She had to be strong, always and only, always for _him_.

He had confessed so much to her, revealed almost everything to her, all his secrets, all his sorrows, even his shames and regrets. He had entrusted her with all of them, and she could not, would not betray his trust. Everyone else had already done that. _You did that_. She swore, that she would never repay him in the same way, no matter how much hurt he had caused her when he had taken her father away. Even if the pain was still too fresh in her memory, she knew that it was nothing compared to the agony he now held in his own heart. It was enough to shatter someone, drive them insane, even look desperately for a way out, when nothing else seemed worthy of it all anymore. So many nights, she had cried herself to sleep, knowing that he was hurting, that he was in pain, and she never once thought, that it would be _her_ greatest suffering. That everything he was enduring, would hurt her just as badly.

She wanted desperately to seek answers, but didn't know where to even begin to turn. It was usually those moments when she would look towards the heavens, and start praying to her dad.

He always had the answer. Maybe, even in death, he could still guide her, and show her what it was she had to do. What path she had to take. What action she had to accept, no matter what the struggles. Death was inevitable. She knew that. She also knew, that she didn't want to lose him. She had lost so much already. It would only be cruel, to lose the last connection she had of him. Only lately, she was starting to feel different. She was starting to recognize Castiel as his own person, his own self, and she found that strangely, she felt just as close to him, as she ever did her father. Maybe _that_ was what he was trying to tell her.

It just wasn't fair, but it also wasn't her secret to share, or her burden to let go of. She had to stand down, so that they could find the truth for themselves. Only she didn't know if they could.

"Dean."

"Yes?"

The line stayed silent for a long time, both their voices sounding small and shameful, but above all saddened. Neither one wanted to accept what they were sure the other already knew, but there was no way to actually know, not until it came to pass from either side. _She hated it_.

"Don't give up on him." She almost sounded pleading, but again, Dean found her voice almost changing, just as he heard a quiet sob escape her lips. "I don't want you to give up on him. He hasn't given up on you, not completely. He can never do that."

Dean didn't know what to say, her words pushing so deep into his soul he could actually feel them pulse against his chest. It was maddening, and he felt his legs give way as his back slowly hit the wall and he dropped down onto the floor. He hated this feeling, but knew that it was one that could not be ignored. He had been ignoring it for too long, and he had a feeling, that she was feeling the same thing. That she even felt it in him. It _had_ been her, who had gotten him to see it in the first place.

"It's not too late Dean. I know that you know it. Just like I do. Please try and understand." Dean felt his voice blocking, his tears wanting to fall but refusing to do so. He wasn't going to show it, wasn't going to prove himself wrong no matter what. Not after everything that had been done. He didn't want forgiveness, but he didn't want revenge either. He simply wanted some form of peace, one that wouldn't be taken from him, like all the other times. He just wanted nothing at this point. "I know it's not easy. I _know_ that. It's not for him either. But I want you to forgive him. Because even though he doesn't deserve to, he's already forgiven you."

"How can I do that Claire?" Damn her if she couldn't hear his soul breaking.

Dean knew he sounded pathetic, but didn't seem to give a damn at that moment. She was cracking him, peeling him back a layer at a time, just as she had unknowingly been doing to Castiel. There was so much for him to say, to do, to ask for, but he never had the courage to do either one. She had to encourage him, force him, even beg him, if not for his own sake, for theirs. All she wanted was for him to believe that it was possible.

"Because, it's like I told you. He loves you," She almost tried to swallow her words, bring out her anger, but found that she couldn't do that. Not yet. Not until she was with him face to face and got to spit out all she wanted.

Castiel deserved someone who understood, and as of this moment, she was the only one who could, presumably. She instead focused on her worry, and told him at least one thing she was sure Dean needed to know, even if Castiel didn't want him to. "He can't forgive himself. He won't."

Dean already knew that, and found that one tear he had been trying to hold back had actually let itself fall, and ran free down his cheek as he again bit at his lip. His wall was cracking, and he feared what monster it was that he had been holding back behind it.

"He screwed us over."

"I know he did," she said, sounding almost sad at the sound of Dean's pain, but that was where her empathy stopped, and where the truth started to crack through her façade. "But so did you. You know it Dean. It hurts you just as much, and not just because he betrayed you. But because you did the same to him."

Dean felt those words pierce him like a steel rod, an unexplainable fury bubbling to the surface, followed by a more painful sorrow. He had been ignoring it all for almost a year, and knew, that he wouldn't be able to hold back much longer. Everything always had its time. Life had already showed him that.

"He's held back, _so_ much from you. From _all_ of you. He's suffering for it. It's _obvious_. I want you to stop this Dean. I want you to stop it all." She sounded adamant, determined, almost pushy but still harsh. She wanted him to know, that she wasn't fooling around, and expected the favor from him in return. God only knew if he'd give it to her. "It's killing him Dean, just as it's killing you. So I'm asking you, I'm _begging_ you. You need to fix it. Because he's not the only one who broke it. You broke it too!"

Dean felt the phone almost crack in his hand, unable to pinpoint whether it was his anger flaring at that moment or his pain. He wanted to scream either which way, but he felt that arguing with her would be pointless. Whatever Cas had told her had obviously been upsetting her, but he needed to know what it was he had said before he could actually start pointing fingers or picking at half-truths. He needed to know what had been said, and it was almost like she had read his mind right then and there.

"He blames himself for everything Dean. Don't let him carry that alone. I would never forgive you if you did." She almost sounded like she was fuming, but tried her hardest to control herself, to control her emotions, no matter how much they wanted to rise to the surface. She hated it, but it was necessary. Dean had to know, and if Castiel wasn't going to make the first move and tell him, then she would have no choice but to do it herself. One thing she always thought about men, was that they were just too damn stubborn. Always for their own good. "He turned to me because he needed help. You were right there with him, have been the whole time, and still he couldn't ask anything of you, because he felt ashamed. He's been harboring everything from you for so long, and he─"

"He should have come to me." He cut off.

"He knew that you didn't want him to," she retorted back quickly.

"I did."

"You didn't." Claire sounded so sure, while Dean sounded more like he was still trying to convince himself. He couldn't hide anything from her. She knew him too well, simply because Castiel did. "You didn't want to help him because he knew that you wanted to help Sam. He couldn't ask you for your attention, when your brother came first. Your brother always comes first! He knows that! What other reason would he have not to turn to you? Why else would he carry this alone?"

"He has been holding in everything," Dean nearly shouted, gritting his teeth so that he could control the tension now bleeding through his voice. He was angry, only he didn't know whether it was towards him, or towards himself. And he wanted desperately to know. "And look where it's gotten him. He nearly died today and that would have been his fault."

Claire suddenly felt sad. She had already known about that, what had been building up inside, and simply shook her head at herself, wondering if Dean would finally be able to understand. To finally see what it was he was meant to see. To _actually_ start _listening_. "Dean, you're still not paying attention," She sighed, trying not to feel defeated, and failing miserably at it. "You never were."

There was so much more she wanted to say, but instead she fell silent, and hung up the phone.

Dean let it hang there for a while longer, before finally hanging up himself.

It felt like hours before he finally managed to do something with himself.

She had been right about one thing at least, Dean hadn't cared to pay attention, not at first, but he knew. She didn't have to tell him, not anything, because he already knew. Dean had cared to look, but was never willing to see. But now was time to change things, and it started with _him_ taking the first step. Castiel had obviously held back a lot, _obviously_, and now, Dean just had to figure out how to do that. How to get him to let go. And he no idea where to start.

He could start somewhere though, and quietly got up from the floor and walked back to Cas' room. God knew that Hell was bound to freeze over with everything that was bound to come bleeding through their gates, but if there was anything that Dean Winchester knew for sure, was that Hell could seriously use some snow.

All he had to do was bring the rain.

…

She felt incredibly frustrated, sitting on her bed and hanging her head in her hand, the phone still clutched in the other. She knew something was wrong. She knew it. She _felt_ it. Something was happening to Castiel, and she could sense it unfolding within her very soul. She recalled so many times where she could just sense it, hear it in his breathing, even in his voice, that something inside him was faltering. There were even times where he would talk to her, his words suddenly slowing down, trailing, and then stopping altogether. She would always call out his name, but would get no response, until he would return her call and sound as if he had just woken up. It scared her, every single time she had heard it, but she couldn't dare think the worst. Still, the thought lingered, and she found herself holding back the words she wanted so desperately to ask him. _Castiel was holding in enough. She didn't need to have him carry anymore_.

Still, she worried.

Usually, it was he who would call her. Other times, it was she who would call him. Whenever she felt him in sorrow, his pain, his immense suffering, always at its heaviest peak, she was the one who would reach out to him, knowing that he would never do so in these intense moments. She called, continuing to try and reach out until he finally answered her. It always relieved her to hear him, to follow his voice, no matter how shaky it sounded, just so she could hang onto it and assure him that everything would be okay. It sounded so much to her like a melody.

Only now, she wasn't so sure anymore.

So much had been told to her in the past year, so much pain, so much agony, and so much desperation. She could only hope, that within the coming months enough time could be spared for him to share his burdens, release his doubts, and surpass his sorrows. He had to learn to let go, before it was too late.

If not for himself, then at least for them.

Time was running out, and so were her prayers.

"…_Dad, what do I do?"_

**To Be Continued…**

**Authors End Note:** So sorry for the delay here. I know I've been updating almost every day and my plan was to submit a chapter every other day to guarantee the story done before the premiere, but yeah, the story has actually been extended and I figured after posting chapter 4 a day ahead of schedule that I granted myself more time with every chapter after that. Sorry it took so long though. I'll try and updater faster just as soon as my muse stops being such a douche and I can get some free time on my hands. Also, has anybody else here seen the preview web clip for 7.01? I think I just about flipped my lid. D8 Review please.


	7. Chapter 7

**Authors Note:** Sorry if the last chapter seemed a little disappointing. I certainly wasn't 100% satisfied with it, maybe I'm just being hard on myself since my muse was on life support at the time, but if you could give me any pointers or suggestions for improvement then please let me know. If you liked it, then awesome and thank you. :) Also, I've decided that this story will now center mostly around Castiel and Claire, considering that we never got to see her character explored very much in the series and I really want to take a crack at it (although I will be exploring many, many others). That's enough rambling for now. I don't want to give away too much else considering a certain reviewer here figured out the majority of my plot (eek), and gave me a couple new ideas to explore (which I'm so down for, yay), but I can certainly say this much. This story may very well continue _way_ past the premiere airing as I previously thought lol. Just warning you. It may be safe to say that I'll be using it as a substitute as well. :P

**Written:** 17 September

**Soundtrack:** Sleep by Poets of the Fall

**Word Count:** 2500+

"_Even though I walk through the valley of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me_."

Psalm 23:4 – The Bible

**Chapter 7**

Certain enough, Claire found her answer right where she thought she would, which found her right where she wanted and _needed_ to be; standing at Bobby Singer's front door. Oddly enough, she also found the first person she wanted to see actually opening it. Dean Winchester.

_Castiel was quite obviously her second_.

To say that the air thickened with tension the moment their eyes met was a _gross_ understatement, and she found her throat constricting the moment she tried saying hello. Dean held his own tense face, the words seemingly wanting to spill out of his own mouth sounding more like "why the hell are you here" or more notably "Oh shit". Needless to say, he knew _why_ she was there, and whatever tension was already circling the house was now going to increase, _tenfold_.

"May I come in?"

Instead of a simple yes or no from his mouth, she got a question instead. "Does your Mom know you're here?"

She simply stood standing there, which pretty much gave him the answer he needed. It certainly wasn't the one he wanted to hear.

Dean simply rolled his eyes and sighed, looking heavenwards as if to say "why me" and promptly looked back down at her, slowly moving to the side and extending his hand to invite her in. She softly nodded in contentment and stepped inside, her backpack hanging slung over behind one arm. Obviously, her intentions were more than just coming to visit to share her concerns and then leaving them to figure out their problems (which would have been nice honestly). She was going to be staying for a while, _with_ or _without_ their permission. Clearly, her mother didn't approve of her little trip, and Dean anxiously awaited (more like dreaded) her call any time now.

Dean carefully closed the door behind him as Claire put her bag down on the floor and gracefully sat down on the couch. Dean studied her, as if waiting patiently for her to pounce any second now and start chewing him out. (What else could he expect really) Surprisingly though, she didn't, and Dean just stood standing there until he planted his own behind in the armchair across from her.

She was tense, almost as much as he was, her hands squeezed tightly in front of her and elbows supported on her knees. She avoided his gaze, very much like Cas did with them, her long hair swaying a little and covering parts of her face. She was nervous, almost scared looking, but that all disappeared in an instant, the moment she blinked and took her eyes off the floor and connected them with Dean's. He immediately felt a shiver run down his spine.

For a split second, he could have sworn that he was looking at Cas, but then again not really, her focus and inner drive shining through at that moment. It had been a long time since Cas had had that look. A _very_ long time.

She blinked again and it was gone, heaving a sigh and shaking her head a little. She wanted to start somewhere, _anywhere_, her hands now clapping together as if she was trying to decide exactly which issue to tackle first. There were so many spinning in her head, each one darker and more dangerous than the last. Dean hated this behavior, feeling like he was in detention for being a bad kid in class and waiting for the teacher to call his dad to come and get him. He hated it, and it only made him ever more nervous with each shaky breath she tried to take. Her nerves were eating at her, God only knew why, and Dean couldn't help but watch her, trying to figure where Cas ended and where Claire actually began. It was difficult, seeing one in the same for some strange reason, even with their physical selves being part of each other. Being father and daughter. But that wasn't what Dean was seeing. He was seeing Claire, and Castiel, together, merged as one being, and he trembled at it. Felt troubled over it. Something else lay deeper, more connected, more than Dean could even begin to understand. It's like they were one in the same, joined, bound together, inseparable.

It was phenomenal. And it was frightening.

After what seemed like forever of holding in a breath, she finally exhaled and looked back at him, her focus on him making him more nervous and lightheaded. Whatever ground he thought he had to defend himself, was pretty just taken from under his feet, simply because of her stare.

"Where's Castiel?" Her question was simple, caring, not aggressive in any way, and Dean actually found himself relaxing at the change. She looked sad almost, pleading, but not any less defensive. She was protective, in almost every way a person could be, her want and obvious need to care over the wellbeing of the fallen angel clear in her posture and voice. She was prepared to help him in every anguish, every inner challenge, no matter what.

"He's upstairs." Dean answered simply, starting off with simple conversation before the bombs started to fall around them. He still anxiously awaited them, expecting her to just start them off with simple carelessness and possible aggression. He couldn't be more wrong. She just didn't have the strength for it, at least not just yet. "He's sleeping."

"Resting comfortably I assume."

Dean couldn't help but smile nervously, considering he couldn't exactly know the answer to that question. You can't tell if someone is having nightmares and don't exactly show it. Again, he took in the rigidness of her posture, the slight paling of her skin, as if she was scared of the answer she would hear as she continued to stare at him, judging to see if he was lying to her.

"He's out like a light."

_I'm sure he is_. This actually had her looking sadder, and Dean wondered what it was that he had said wrong.

"Claire?"

She quickly hid her dismissal and locked her eyes back on his again, her hidden fierceness starting to shine through. Again, Dean started getting nervous, twitching his fingers and licking his lips in preparation for the war that he was sure was bound to start any second now. Usually in such circumstances, he would size up his opponent in preparation for such confrontations. It was simply instinct in his nature. She looked just as much the same as the last time he saw her. Her hair was still long, almost to her elbows, and she had also gotten a little taller, putting her maybe just a little less than a foot shorter than he. He hadn't gotten to know her much the first time they met, when she was still just a kid, but the last time they were in a room together it was incredibly chaotic. He'd even go as far to say that it was almost apocalyptic. She had been begging them to save Cas, to forgive him, telling them all the sufferings he was enduring and how much it was hurting him. Hurting her. Hurting _them_. They didn't want to believe her, but her eyes told Dean everything he needed to know, and gave in a lot quicker than he ever thought possible. The look she graced after his decision was so bright, almost happy were it not for her constant visions of Castiel dying. If Dean didn't know any better, he'd think that such a light could never be seen in a human. Only in angels. Dare he say it, he was about to swallow his words.

Claire had told them much, but hadn't told them everything…

"Can I see him?"

Her question quickly kicked him out of his thoughts, her eyes pleading almost, much like that day, except her absolute desperation was blank from them this time. Maybe it was because she knew he was here, safe and sound instead of being tortured and beaten. It didn't help any, but at least she knew that he was close by. Whether he was in a better place than he had been, that had yet to be determined honestly.

"I don't think you wanna do that right now Claire."

And if it didn't already look like he had handed her the key to her own sorrowful demise, the hurtful look she gave him only made him feel that much worse.

"Why not?"

"Because he's," Dean avoided her gaze, shaking his head as if trying to figure out exactly what to say. His limbs started to give everything away, legs shaking, hands rubbing together, voice cracking and nearly stuttering. He had no idea what made him so nervous around her, but things were bound to get worse for him the longer she stuck around. He figured that a simple answer would suffice for now. But only for now. "Because he's not okay right now. He's…he needs some time. Okay?"

She said nothing, just kept staring at him with that long, sad look. Dean wanted to fold at it, the combination reminding him so much of Sam and Cas, bringing out the ultimate weapon to bring him down. Something else was boggling her mind. He just couldn't figure out what it was yet. "That's not his fault you know."

Dean simply tilted his head (another thing that Cas hadn't done in a while), watching as tears started welling in the corners of her eyes, her gaze slowly dropping from his own and onto the floor. She seemed so lost, so confused, and yet so sure of what she was speaking of. Again, Dean had no idea where to start, what to think, but he needed to know. Whatever it was, Dean needed to know now.

"Claire?" Dean fixed his gaze on her, his eyes fierce and concentrated, as if trying to insist to her that she didn't have to carry whatever she was holding around on her own. The problem was, he wasn't sure he could be the one to offer help to help carry it for her, with her, her burden looking so heavy and troubled. "Claire." He tried again, trying to get her to tell him, look at him, say to him whatever this secret was that she was hiding. Whatever it was, it didn't matter. He needed to know. He _wanted_ to know. "What aren't you telling me?"

Claire sat there silently, watching Dean so closely, so much like the way Cas used to when the two of them first met. Only this time, instead of a look of curiosity, it just looked like one of pure misery. She was hiding something deep, and Dean began to fear exactly what it was. "It's not my secret to tell."

Dean stayed silent, taking in her words as he watched her breaths coming in and out, shallow, empty, almost nonexistent. She was hurting, by whatever it was that plagued her, it was so much for her to bear, and yet she carried it, simply for his sake. The sake of the angel who had once been her father. Who had now apparently become her friend. "Claire? What else happened to Cas?"

His voice was so low, so desperate sounding, she almost didn't hear it.

She simply looked at him sadly, her head finally dropping to block her face as memories of the past came forth, dropping her tears as she fought hard to keep them in. She gritted her teeth, trying desperately to forget the images that still haunted her every day, tormented her, tortured her. Tortured _him_. She couldn't take it, but she knew that he had gone through enough, and chose to bear witness to his grievances, just so he would not have to face them alone. This was her purpose, and she would abide by it. She would not fail, no matter how weak she was and how much it took of her. She would not fail, no matter what.

She sat silently, before lifting herself up and leaving Dean without an answer, slowly ascending herself up the stairs and to Castiel.

"_I'm sorry Dean. But this is one thing that you'll have to see, in order to understand. Just so you can know, how much Castiel went through, just so you could live."_

* * *

><p><em>The skin of his vessel was rotting, covered in boils and scars as the effort to retain the souls inside slowly started to fail. He was falling apart, unable to contain them within himself just as Balthazar had predicted. Castiel had been wrong, again, when he told his brother that he would be able to, and he had again been proven wrong. He had been wrong <em>so_ many times. Now was when he could look back on it, on all the mistakes he had made and to all the people he had made them towards, lied to, betrayed. Most of all, he had lied to himself, the one opinion that he needed to listen to and completely ignored. He should have listened, but had been so damn blind about everything else that he never cared to listen. He had gotten his proof soon enough however, in the form of the most harshest punishment ever to be received, but it still didn't seem to be enough. In his opinion, his punishment was harsh, but he deserved so much more. He had betrayed his friends, his family, his own Father, and yet he was still allowed to live and start anew. Only now, he was paying the price once again._

_He knew what was happening, could feel it inside him for weeks now, but he never dared tell a soul. The angels knew, they could see it clearly inside him, but the brothers, Claire, none of them suspected. None of them knew for certain. Claire could tell there was something, Dean was starting too as well, but neither one could grasp the extent of the damage caused by the souls. His Grace hadn't been the only thing destroyed. Was not the only thing affected. Castiel was tainted, soiled, and only time would tell when it would finally be too much for him to hide anymore. He never told anyone, simply because they were already hurting enough. That, and he was ashamed._

_He would get his punishment. Once he left this life, and his soul descended into Hell, right where it rightfully belonged._

_He was fading, and there was nothing or no one who could save him. Not this time. Not even God._

_Sadly, he found that he really didn't want to be._

_He found himself falling, descending once again into his perdition, until he heard her voice, calling out his name, piercing through the darkness like an illuminated melody. His savior, his protector, his one and only strength. She had always been it, and it seemed, that she had yet to leave him, just as so many others had done. He still feared, that it was all just a dream._

_It all seemed real though. Hearing her voice call to him, and pulling him out of the shadows._

_It was she, she who had seen it all, and yet had not told a single mortal soul. She carried it with her, and would continue to do so, until the end of his days._

_God knew, that there was more than likely not very many left for him._

**To Be Continued…**

**Authors End Note:** Okay, so the idea for this story is very much centered around two movies I saw this past week on a day off from work and that was A) Constantine, which was also the inspiration for my post 6.22 fic "Walls" and B) Ghost Rider, which gave me a huge idea for the souls that Cas took out of purgatory. If you can figure it out, kudos for you, but if not, get ready for some fireworks of Biblical proportions, quite literally lol, which was another reference that I took much out of. If you already know this story as said certain reviewer here did (I blame them for all my free time now being spent solely on this, not that I'm complaining lol), then I can promise that I will try not to disappoint and make the story an adventure for us all. As always, please read and review. :P


	8. Chapter 8

**Authors Note:** I think I finally discovered the secret in keeping a muse alive, or at least my own: barely any sleep at night and always start writing the chapter before dawn, while blaring music in your car in an empty parking lot an hour before you're scheduled for work. It seems to be working for me quite well lately, lol. Which is why this chapter is up a day early. Enjoy!

**Written:** 19 September

**Soundtrack:** Pieces by RED

**Word Count:** 1100+

"_A man that hath friends must shew himself friendly: and there is a friend that sticketh closer than a brother_."

Proverbs 18:24 – The Bible

**Chapter 8**

If Dean could recall one of the scariest moments in his life to ever be recanted, it sure as hell wasn't coming to him right now.

Dean simply remained sitting there, almost petrified, trying desperately to understand why Claire reacted as she did. It only caused Dean to bring up more questions, and frankly, to want to figure out what the hell else was going on. Claire was hiding something, burying it, which in his experience was never a healthy combo. It always ate alive at you, every single moment that you kept it, and Dean knew for a fact, that it wouldn't be much longer before she finally broke. Dean was an expert at that notion.

_One day, some day, the spirit _always_ broke_.

* * *

><p><em>He could have sworn that the darkness felt more colder, shallower, but for some reason he felt warmth, light, and could even hear song. Someone was here, and he couldn't for the life of him pinpoint who, not until he felt their touch. It was familiar, much like the days of his life before humanity, before he pulled the Righteous Man from perdition, before he let his pride take over his judgment. It felt so much like home, only home…wasn't what it used to be.<em>

…

_Claire placed a gentle hand on his pale cheek, trying to rouse him awake but allowing him to do so on his own. It had been so long since she'd last seen him, actually physically seen him, and she recalled that the final time had been in that empty warehouse that one fateful night. Her mother had been possessed by a demon, and her father had been fatally wounded, but those days were now over. Unfortunately however, it was also when her nightmares began._

_The dreams, the visions, the emotions, they all still stuck around, no matter how hard she tried to ignore them or brush them off as illusion._

_They were no hallucination however, not when she learned of his demise, then again of his second time, and then of every event after that. At first they were fuzzy, distorted, but as time went by and she saw more, learned more, the images became more clear, focused, vivid. She could see them happening right in front of her, and there were moments even when she would simply stop what she was doing and stand there, as if staring into nothing, and watching the unfortunate events unfolding before her eyes. It was heart wrenching, painful, yet ultimately inevitable she realized. Castiel had used her, taken her as a vessel, and because of it had left his mark. She was his now, his one connection to everything outside, and it took an all too desperate time to realize that he even had it. It didn't matter to her however. Deep down, she always knew that it would lead to this. Their roles reversing. Just as he had done to her when she was a child, watched her, protected her, took care of her, the responsibility had now shifted, from father to daughter, friend to friend, and she would take it as her sole purpose._

_Castiel may have taken so much from her, but he had also given so much back. No matter what the cost, she only hoped that he would come to realize it._

…

"Castiel?"

His brow furrowed slightly, reacting to the sound of his name. Claire leaned in a little closer, her voice remaining at a whisper as she called to him again.

"Castiel."

He frowned deeper this time, as if trying to fight back the darkness that still wanted to keep him, and Claire gracefully smiled before reaching out and placing a chaste kiss on his forehead. The gesture was simple, subtle, and gave her no time to think about her action. It was simple, pleasant, and she knew from personal experience that such motions always made things feel better, safer, more tolerable to deal with. She eventually got what she wanted as she looked back down at him, only to see glazing blue eyes slowly staring back at her. It took time for him to focus, but when he eventually recognized the icy blue reflections staring back at him, he had no choice but to believe them to be real. _How he started to pray that they _were_._

The sound of her soft, caring voice only proved it to him, and he found something to actually thank God for. "Hello Castiel."

Castiel felt his world shift a bit, if only just by an inch, but an inch nonetheless as she carefully wrapped an arm around his shoulders and the other over and behind his head, her forehead pressing lightly on his left temple. Castiel felt safe, comforted, and not the least bit worried at that moment. Whatever purpose she had to be here, he chose not once to question, and instead drew himself into her embrace. He was safe with her, and this much he knew for certain. He simply dragged his tired limbs out from under him, and wrapped his own arms under hers and over her shoulders. He felt safe with her, more safe than he had felt in a _very_ long time.

He couldn't recall what triggered that moment, when he started to cry.

Claire soon joined him, her lips smiling as if in sorrowful joy, that maybe, just maybe, she would be able to pull him through. She knew that she would need help, but at the very least, the angel was willing to try now. "I will never let anything happen to you ever again." She whispered, feeling another tear stream down her cheek before falling on his own. Her heart felt lighter, her hope rekindled, and that was enough apparently for him as well. The two were connected, so deeply than either one managed to realize, and it was only just dawning on her. "I promise. I will never let anyone hurt you again." She pressed down even further, her lips now so close to his ear as she lowered her voice, singing silent promises. "I promise."

She felt him shiver in response, the relief now flooding through him feeling like the floodgates of Heaven opening for her. It was liberating, and yet also sad, knowing exactly what it took to enforce such reaction. It was sad, but unfortunately, it had also been necessary.

His own whispered words were enough joy for her. "Thank you."

Neither one knew how much time would pass, but it didn't seem to matter, as each one clung onto the other, as if their very lives depended on it. They hung on, solely on that.

**To Be Continued…**

**Authors End Note:** I always write my deepest stuff right before dawn I am realizing lol. Anyways, I know this chapter is very much shorter than most and kind of filler-ish I know, but I promise that the next one will be longer and I'll finally start dropping some hints on where this story is headed (and start giving Cas a little break, I know, I know, I'm evil. Lol). Again, I'm trying to get this out before the premiere, heaven forbid I lose my inspiration from disappointment, or freak out should this story actually follow the seasons actual plot line. *shivers* Reviews feed the muse please. A BIG thank you to everyone who has stuck around in every way possible. You have my sincere gratitude. :D


	9. Chapter 9

**Authors Note:** Yes, yet another sleep deprived night leads to this. Another chapter pouring out my head an hour before I start work at the crack of dawn and another post three days early (I am really loving this no pressures schedule thing lol). Lovely. Anyways, I know last chapter was pretty chick-flicky (I did that on purpose I swear) but I really wanted to heighten the desperation Castiel has considering his situation, which will start unfolding in more detail in this chapter, if even just a tiny bit. I got really into it here and yes, the "big bad" in this story actually does exist in biblical lore, so get ready for the roller coaster ride. I sure as hell had fun with it.

**Written:** 20 September

**Soundtrack:** Give Me a Sign by Breaking Benjamin

**Word Count:** 3800+

"_Woe unto them that call evil good, and good evil; that put darkness for light, and light for darkness; they put bitter for sweet, and sweet for bitter!"_

Isaiah 5:20 – The Bible

**Chapter 9**

_All evils have a name. All evils have a purpose. All evils are derived from bad intentions, evil doings, and personal conflict. Evil is a word, a phrase, and even a manifestation. Evil can never be ignored, for it is always with you, inside you, buried deep within the soul until a purpose has been presented for us to release it. Evil is a joke, but also a trial, and it is one that we must all face every day. Evil can collect, betray, manifest, all into your most disturbing nightmares and worst enemies. Evil has a name…_

_Thy name is "Legion", for all the evils of the world, have ascended onto me._

* * *

><p>She was gone for perhaps an hour, but to Dean it felt like a lifetime. He found himself pacing, the wooden boards beneath his feet the only thing in his way from the living room and the basement. He was tired, anxious, and downright miserable. His brain screamed at him, scolded him, demanded things of him that he wasn't sure he could do. He mocked himself, wondering what it was that started it all, and he just couldn't come up with an answer. Dean needed them, wanted them, so bad enough that he was now willing to fight whoever he had to find them. Claire was keeping something, something that was obviously Castiel's burden, and Dean demanded to know what it was. It was wrenching, sickening, but also necessary it seemed. He was hurting, clearly so was she, and Dean was starting to understand if just a little what that meant. He had closed himself off, locked that door behind him after everything they had been through, and never looked back. not even once.<p>

He was starting to regret that decision.

It was his fault he realized. It had all been his fault. His own demise, his own stubbornness, he was to blame for it all and for why he couldn't get a grip. This was huge, monumental it seemed, and Dean had had the answer right in front of him all along. He just never saw it, because he never bothered to look.

Dean's thoughts were soon interrupted by footsteps, one after the other descending the stairs. He hoped who it would be, but found himself feeling a little disappointed to discover that it was only Sam. He noticed his brothers look immediately, wondering what it was he had missed as he made his rest of the way down the stairs and approached him.

Dean now sat there, hands over his mouth and eyes now peering up at his.

Sam just looked at him, frankly wondering what the hell was up, and simply got another look from Dean that told him not to even ask. Dean was disturbed, conflicted, and Sam would more than likely not even figure out why. Sam was a smart kid, always had been, but not even he could read Dean all the time, especially when Dean couldn't even read himself. It was a habit of his as of late, and the older hunter actually started to resent it.

"Dean?"

Sam continued staring, taking in the blank look on his brothers face as he continued to just stare into nothing. Dean was confused, annoyed, but above all concerned. Bothered. Troubled. Dean was unaware of something, looking as if he was desperately trying to figure something out, and this actually had the younger hunter worrying.

"Dean?"

Before Sam could get another word in, Dean quickly cut him off and stared straight up into his eyes. Sam almost flinched. Not because his look was fierce, or held its usual façade, but because it was opposite. They were vulnerable, cracked, even seeping with so much turmoil that Sam didn't even recognize him. It haunted him, and if Sam didn't know any better, he would have thought that he was looking at─

"We messed up Sammy." Dean whispered, his fingers muffling much of his voice until he dropped them on his knees. "We messed up bad."

Sam knew that he was losing it now, if Dean was starting to confess something like this. Dean was never one to admit defeat, never admit that he was wrong, yet here he was, shouting it out in all his glory, in the only way Dean actually knew how. By simply, saying it.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

Dean just scoffed a little, looking away as if to hide his annoyance. "I'm talking about Cas. What the hell do you think I'm talking about?"

"Geez Dean, calm down alright. Why," Sam stopped, trying to figure out what to say considering the situation. Dean was never in these types of moods, very few in fact, and he knew better than to start pissing off his brother when he was in such dire situations. Something was troubling him, pissing him off maybe, but Sam had to figure out what exactly before he could start tackling it. He was the one who would have to instigate, because God knew that Dean would not be able to do so himself. Sam simply gave out a sigh, before asking the question he was sure to regret. "What the hell are you talking about?"

Dean really wanted to knock his ass out right now, but saved that for another time for when it actually counted. _Little did he know how soon that may actually come._ "I'm talking about 'us' Sam. The way we've been acting like total dicks to Cas and," Dean paused, biting down on his lip as his hand again reached to cup over his mouth. He was shifting, and God knew he was regretting it. "We don't even know everything that happened. Other than what we saw we," Dean's legs started shaking, so much so that he shot up from his chair and started pacing again and mumbling to himself. Sam just looked on worriedly, almost scared, thinking that Dean had finally lost it. What he shouted next only had him believing that to be truth. "SON OF A BITCH!"

Yep. It was official. Dean was pissed. Sam knew that he only ever shouted that when he was upset or angry, mainly at himself.

"Whoa whoa whoa, hold on a second." Sam said, placing both hands on his brothers shoulders to turn him around and keep him firmly in place, rooted to one spot and stop his stupid pacing. "Where the hell is this coming from? Two days ago you acted like him being around was nothing and all of a sudden you're changing sides?" Sam didn't want to sound like a total dick, but even he had to admit that he was sounding very much like one at that moment. He thought better to change tactics. "Is there something you're not telling me?"

"Ask Claire." Dean answered simply, his irritation now more noticeable and obsolete. Sam just simply stood there, face suddenly dropping.

"Claire?"

"Uh huh."

"As in…_the_ Claire?"

"Yeah." Dean just kept answering, his words snappy and quick; heading bobbing and posture shifting from one foot to the other, hands held firmly on his hips. It was almost amusing, but Sam really didn't feel like laughing at that moment.

"Dude what the hell does Claire have to do with any of this? With how you're acting?"

"I don't know." Dean sounded like he was joking, but also like he was serious, a dangerous combination Sam all too quickly realized. _Crap_.

"Okay." Sam breathed, his eyes shifting to the side as he tried figuring out where to go with this. Dean was acting weird, beyond weird really, and Sam really wasn't in the right state of mind right now to deal with it. Dean's head just kept following his as it moved, as if trying to act like a little kid trying to keep his eyes on him. It reminded so much of Gabriel, and even of the way Cas looked at him the moment they first met Uriel, and Sam found himself getting a little aggravated. "Okay. Let's just take a walk shall we? We can figure all this out later."

Sam started to move an arm around his shoulders, as if to push him in a certain direction and get him to start walking. What Dean said next had him halting on the spot.

"She's here."

Sam had to rewind that before stuttering back, sounding pathetic and slow to note. A good few seconds passed before he said anything, realizing that Dean wasn't actually joking. "Who's here? _Claire's_ here?"

"Yep." Again, Dean closed his eyes and bobbed his head, looking much like a kid trying to convince himself of a lie he had just told to his parents. To Sam, it was official. Dean, his brother and number one role model in life, had finally lost it.

"Dude," Sam smiled, almost wanted to laugh as he looked at his brother, trying to call out his bluff. "Claire can't be here, okay. God knows Amelia wouldn't─"

"Her mother doesn't know." Dean smiled, almost stupidly as if to prove a point.

That did it for him, and Sam was officially going to call a therapist or perform an exorcism or something until Dean snapped out of it. Seriously, what the f─ was up with him? "You've lost it."

"Never had it." Dean said flatly, crooked smile on his lips. He was actually finding this amusing, while Sam was starting to consider grabbing the holy water. Bobby was bound to have some within reach somewhere.

"That's it." Sam said, hands flying up in front of him. "I'm getting Bobby."

Dean simply huffed as he turned around and continued pacing. Sam didn't get very far however, as he heard small, light footsteps coming down the stairs. Sam froze, looking up to find the blonde haired, blue eyed teenager standing just a few steps from the bottom. Sam felt his stomach drop, but for reasons unknown, he couldn't figure out why. He had reason to be worried, and he simply swallowed down the bile that wanted to travel up his throat at that moment as she locked eyes with his.

Sam felt his skin crawl, goose bumps forming on his arms, and he knew that if he wasn't careful, Dean would find only another reason to get pissed off. On his end, Sam would probably get the beat down of his life, should Dean ever find out what _he_ was hiding. _How he _hated_ it now_. Sam stood his ground, noticing that Claire had no ill look towards him, and felt himself calming, if only just a bit.

"Claire." His voice was simple, flat, but still held that tiny hint of worry just behind it. Dean had heard it, if even just a little, and he assumed that Sam was just as worried about the verbal beat down that was bound to ensue here. _Little did he know_.

"Hi Sam." Claire replied, a small smile tugging at the edge of her mouth before it deepened into a small frown and she finished descending the stairs, head down avoiding their gaze. She made her way over to the couch, sitting on the edge that still held her bag and placed her elbows on her knees, hands lacing together in front of her.

She simply sat there, eyes blank and staring into nothing just as Dean had done just minutes before. They watched her, saw how her brow furrowed just slightly as she concentrated on her thoughts. She found herself deep in them, panning out her next move. She reminded Dean almost of them, planning their next evasive maneuver during a hunt, and Dean only felt himself getting more nervous. Thankfully for Sam however, Dean was now wearing his usual tough façade, trying to decipher what it was her expressions hid. Frankly, he was getting tired of all the secrecy, and decided that enough was enough. He may not have been looking forward to the whole 'we're gonna duke it out' conversation, but this was just getting ridiculous. Dean was at his wits end, Sam was getting there too, and he finally decided that what the hell. Might as well just get the shit over with. _He would _so_ regret his decision_.

"Claire, what aren't you telling us?" Dean started, trying to sound sincere but also firm, hoping to get across that he was serious, and wasn't really in the mood for more games. It was starting to feel like this whole situation had become a game to him, and frankly, he was sick of it. "Look, I know Cas has his secrets, we all do," Sam felt his blood freeze at that moment, but tried hard not to look it. "But don't you think that this is getting a little ridiculous? I mean come one. Cas is hanging off the edge and he can't even tell us why."

"He can he just won't." She said softly, her eyes moving from the small corner of Bobby's living room wall and staring straight up at him. Her eyes held concern, worry, but also sadness and misery. She was obviously trying to keep it together, trying to see joy at the end of this whole damn mess as if she was the only one who could. She even found herself smiling a little, almost as if she was actually seeing it right in front of her.

…_It petrified them. _

"Castiel has, done so much for you, for everyone here, and even after everything that he has gone through he still can't seem to face it. To see what it is that I see." She said, that small smile still on her face as she spoke to them in the most sincere, wisest way she could. It was creepy to say the least, but she looked like she actually believed it. "This was all ultimately a victory, even if it cost him so much to gain it. It just seems that," She turned away for only a moment, looking down at her feet and keeping her gaze there. "It just seems like he took too much, to give it all to you. To let you keep your life. And even though he took so many wrong turns and false steps in the process of that goal he still had the best intentions in mind. Behind it all." She paused for a moment, trying to figure out the right words to say as she stared out the window at the sun peering through. It felt warm against her skin, and she relished at the feeling. It reminded her so much, of being happy. "He bears, so much…and he still won't look away. Take any help. Ask it of you." She looked up, the care in her eyes reflecting straight back at them. She looked so different now, almost as if she was at peace. "He thinks, that's he's asked more than enough from you, and doesn't want to burden you anymore. He doesn't think you deserve to go through that, when you've already had _more_ than your fair share of sufferings."

Dean didn't know what to do, what to say at that moment as he took in the real look of peace on her face. It was like she had come to a realization, an understanding, and only they were the ones who could not see. Whatever it was that had made that, had obviously come at a great price. The only thing that Dean wondered, was what it was, and how much exactly it had taken from them. Exactly how much was it all worth, and in the end, would it even matter? Would it actually be enough? _Would it be too much?_

"I've tried my best to convince him," She spoke softly, looking so much at rest in her mind that if they didn't know any better, they would think that they were speaking to someone else entirely. This wasn't Claire, at least not the one Dean had seen just an hour ago and spoke with just last night. This Claire was different, humble, modest, meek and calming. It was like she was the sun shining through the clouds, after having the land engulfed and flooded by storms. It was different, and it was serene. She continued whispering, and they continued listening. "But it would seem that I'm just not enough. He has to see it for himself, and there's only so much I can do to help." Some of that peace had now fallen away, but she still hung desperately to hope, grasped onto her faith, as if she believed that God would give her a sign. Give her the miracle that she desperately wanted, for all their sakes. "Castiel has to figure it out on his own now. It's the only way he'll see. If and when he lets himself."

Sam stood there silently, taking in the meaning behind her words, but it looked like Dean had failed to see the point yet again, and let his anger of their greatest betrayal get the better of him. He just couldn't look past it, not just yet, and he would regret it. "Well I think that makes him a coward. And if Cas doesn't want to tell us whatever the hell is bothering him, then I say we just let him deal with it on his own. He doesn't want our help, so be it. We don't want to give it to him anyway. Like he said, we've done more than enough."

Sam knew what Dean really wanted to say, what Dean had meant to say before letting his emotions get in the way, that he really _did_ want to help him, but unfortunately Claire didn't know Dean that well like he did. Sam knew for a _fact_, that Dean was about to eat his words. Unfortunately, that also meant that Sam would have to shove them down his throat just as much as she was about to.

That right there, was the straw that broke the camel's back.

Claire's face dropped, her expression mixed in both shock and dismay, before her eyes rose with a piercing rage, fueled by the desire to physically drop him on his ass and show him just exactly what Cas had gone through. Everything that he endured, just so he could save them all. Dean had been selfish, ungrateful and Claire was just about to show him the wrath of one such forces. If Dean was willing to bring a war, then she, would bring a bloodbath. "You, Dean Winchester," She slowly got up, walking straight up to him looking much bigger than she actually was. Dean found himself actually flinching, Sam just beside him, and he felt himself swallow at what he was sure was about to be Hell, all…over…_again_.

_Clearly, he had pissed off the _wrong_ person. _

"You _selfish_, _arrogant_, _conceited_ _**ASSHOLE**_!" She shouted, hot tears welling in her eyes and anger flaring through her veins. She had never felt such rage, experienced such panic, but the hunter had obviously awakened something so deep inside her that she never thought she had. Never dreamed she carried. She was vengeful, ruthless, and she suddenly came to the conclusion, that she _hated_ Dean Winchester. Absolutely _hated_ him. With all the might in the world and even more. It was wrong, she knew that, but her mind didn't seem to care at that moment. She slowly realized, that her heart didn't seem to feel any different either. She loathed it, but felt that Dean had finally crossed the line. "You don't know, a _damn_ thing. You know NOTHING! And whatever the hell, Castiel saw in you that made him think you were worth saving, worth all the pain he put himself through, all the hurt he cast upon himself that allowed him to redeem you and all the choices you've ever made is beyond me! Why he thought you were worth giving up his life for I will never know, but I do know this much. Castiel has been through enough, more than his damn share, and if you think that I am going to let you burden him with more of your pathetic feelings and notions of inadequacy, YOU ARE DEAD WRONG! I swear to you Dean, whatever the hell you think you know about Castiel, you obviously have no clue. You have no _idea_, what he had to accept in order to be redeemed, and it was all worth it to him, because of you. _You Dean_. The Righteous Man who he pulled out of Hell and swore to protect, even until his death, which he suffered through twice because of you. The fate he suffered when he took the souls was one even worse than that, worse than Hell, worse than anything you could possibly ever imagine, and still you are ungrateful!"

Her heart was pounding, ears ringing, breath heaving, and yet she didn't stand down, refused to do so, simply for his sake. The sake of the angel who had given up everything, all because he still thought the hunter was worth it. He had _so_ much faith in him, but the cost of it meant that he no longer had faith in himself. He had made a choice, and it had been the noble one. Sadly, it appeared that Dean still didn't believe so, and Claire felt her heart breaking, her rage boiling deep within her gut, giving life to her most dangerous thoughts. She _hated_ Dean, and knew that she would more than likely, never see him again as she once did. The way Castiel knew him, right down to his soul. It truly was a sad thing, and he had no one to blame, but himself.

"I swear to you, if you ever, ever hurt Castiel in ANY way Dean Winchester, I will not hesitate to make you pay." She trembled, her eyes squeezing, teeth gritting, breath fuming. Her hands were now balled into fists, and she released the most dangerous words she had ever spoken in all her sixteen years of life. Once they were out, she knew that she could never take them back. At that moment, that didn't seem to matter. "I swear it. If Castiel meets his end at the hands of you…_I will destroy you myself. I __**will**__ make you suffer, more so than you can _possibly_ imagine._"

Dean just stood there, awestruck, as she finally found the strength to step away, and bolted out the door. She needed to get away from him, just walk away and never look back. She had told him her thoughts, her judgments, and only when she had gotten just far enough away from the house and from him, did she begin to break down and cry. What was said was hurtful, misguided, but also necessary. She had made a promise, swore by it, and she feared, that she may have had to keep it. Abide by it. Suffer for it. It was all becoming too much, but if there was anything Claire knew, it was that Castiel had clearly gone through so much more. She would keep it all together, simply for his sake.

Unfortunately for her however, it meant that she had crossed a line, and she could never, ever, take it back.

Dean was right in one thing however. No matter how hard you fought, the spirit, _always_, broke.

**To Be Continued…**

**Authors End Note: **Dean never knows when the hell to keep his mouth shut, and apparently I am still having some issues of my own with last season and this one. I blame the sleep deprivation currently plaguing my brain. Review please?


	10. Chapter 10

**Authors Note:** Warnings for just a bit of swearing. I may be taking a break after this chapter to focus on my other works, so I will settle with this chapter as a back burner until then. *sits back patiently to watch your faces* I'm just kidding! I'm way to caught up in this story to even attempt a try at it lol. Seriously, I am all over this thing like it's nobody's business. And besides, THE PREMIERE IS HERE TOMORROW! WHO ELSE HERE BESIDES ME IS FREAKIN OUT? *starts readying the tissues, chocolate and potential things to throw at Dean and Cas* Seriously, someone has to take their heads out of their asses. Enough ranting. Onto this juicy bit of literature here. And yes…before you ask, it was another fucking sleepless night, which I am now possibly suffering insomnia from after all the other nights. *sighs* Still doing wonders for the muse though. *grins* Also, expect someone mentioned in chapter 4 to make another appearance here. If you can't figure out who, then I am doing my job of keeping you in the dark. I threw a little bit of everything in here (fluff, angst, heartbreak, etc), so enjoy. :P

**Written:** 21 September

**Soundtrack:** Hero by Skillet

**Word Count:** 3400+

"_And they that know thy name will put their trust in thee: for thou, Lord, hast not forsaken them that seek thee."_

Psalms 9:10 – The Bible

**Chapter 10**

"It still amazes me how fucking stupid you are."

"I know I know. I'm an idiot."

"No Dean. You're a _dumbass_."

The brothers had been going at it for almost an hour, and it had gotten so bad that Bobby had even been forced to shove their asses out the door and to the garage to duke it out, especially after learning exactly what it was that had actually gone down. Needless to say, he had to agree with Sam on this end, but he made sure to tell Dean anyway just how dumb of a move he actually made. _Freakin' idgit._

"Well what do you want me to say? That I'm sorry?"

"Dean it's a little late for 'I'm sorry' here. You fucking crossed the line!"

"What the hell do you think she did!"

"You asked for it you jerk!" Sam was fed up, at wits end with his brother still not getting the message even though he obviously already knew it. Dean simply chose not to act on it, see the truth for what it was, and needless to say it was tearing him apart. Dean wasn't thinking, never really did much of that these days, but what Sam didn't actually know was that he was doing it all the time, more so than he ever really knew about. Dean was at his own wits end, and whenever he thought he had found an answer that he so desperately searched for, it was always the wrong one. _Dean really hated himself at that moment_.

"Oh shut up bitch!"

"Screw you Dean." Sam said simply and walked, walked away from his brother while he sighed at himself for hashing it out with him. Sam had had enough, of everything. Of it all. Dean had his issues, Sam had his secrets, and Castiel had his nightmares, and it seemed like all of them were mixed together in one giant pot just to screw with them all. Sam simply lay his head down and walked, just to get away from all the drama that was unfolding. Claire had done the same, on the opposite end of the scrap yard, which left Dean right in the middle to simmer with himself. Exactly how the bastard wanted it.

Only, it wasn't really how he wanted it. Not exactly.

Dean was sorry, didn't really know how to say it but he was. He had crossed the line, he knew that for a fact, and it was obvious just how badly he'd done that after the reaction he brought out from Claire. He had never had that intention, never even expected her capable of it, but the fact that he managed to do so had him feeling small and shamed. Dean was an idiot, he might as well have made it official, and the only way he was going to do that was by recanting what he said and apologizing. Only it would have to wait until tomorrow, because a storm was headed their way and he knew that it didn't refer to the weather. He felt it, rushing through his bones like a wave of doubt.

There wasn't a cloud in the sky, but Dean felt like thunder was brewing all around him, and he knew that only time would tell when lightning finally struck him.

It was weird, because he was almost looking forward to it.

* * *

><p>Claire still felt her body shaking, even after several hours of pacing herself around the rusted metal heaps and focusing on controlling herself. She was still upset, enraged with every fiber of her being, but there was nothing she could do about it at this point. What was done had been done, and there was no taking it back. Sadly, she still wasn't at that point where she was actually regretting her words. She had meant it, every word, only because she knew perfectly well about what Castiel had been put through and Dean did not. She had seen it, experienced it, and every image had been seared into her brain, never to be erased or forgotten. It had become a nightmare, and she found herself living every moment of it both asleep, and awake.<p>

A small voice broke her out of her thoughts, and she actually felt herself shifting.

"Well I never knew you had it in you little one. Congratulations."

Claire quickly turned around, hair covering half her face until she tucked it behind her ear and greeted her visitor. She was familiar with her, had been for a while now, but still never got used to the way she would pop in and out of nowhere whenever she pleased. It still made her jump at times, but she was starting to get accustomed to the idea of her guardian sticking around more often than used to. Claire didn't think so, but her presence at that moment actually had her seeing things just a bit more clear. Now was when the regret was starting to seep through her mind.

_She didn't like it_.

"You sure told him Claire. Even I was impressed that you finally managed to say, well, _shout_, something to him. Dean Winchester can be quite the prick when he wants to be don't you think?"

Claire didn't answer her. She simply lowered her head as if in shame, recalling every word that she had said to the hunter just hours before. They still rang through her head, hurt her in so many ways, but deep down she knew that they had been the only ones that could be released. That had been buried deep down inside her, and unfortunately, it was Dean who had received her backlash. He didn't deserve them, not all of them, but it was too late now to take them back, and she figured that now was a good a time as ever to simply let go and accept her responsibilities. Dean had crossed a line, and in return so had she. Both had said things they didn't mean, she saw that much now, and hoped that she could be forgiven, if and _only_ she could forgive him as well. Right now was too soon, but maybe tomorrow that could change. If and only she would let it.

"What have I done Josephine?" She whispered, sounding so sad and ashamed that she barely even recognized herself. That had been happening to her a lot lately. "I said such horrible things to him. Things I didn't mean to say, but I still feel like I had to say it, even if it wasn't all directed at him."

"Your words came out of truth and hurt. I know you didn't mean it, but sometimes we can't bury the things that we feel and the words we want to say. I've told you that before sweetheart. You can't change that, even if you wanted to do." The angel was gentle with her, sincere and honest, and understood the position that Claire had found herself in. It was a difficult situation, she herself knew that much, and only hoped that she would come to that conclusion on her own. She needn't worry. Her brother had an honest friend at his side, even if his others were a little less willing to understand his turmoil, and she knew that things would get better when it was time. Castiel had to make the first step, God only knew when that would happen, but she knew that it would happen nonetheless. Her brother was stubborn, just as much if not more than any human she had ever encountered, and she was well aware of how much he could bottle before it all came spewing it out. He would get his peace one day, in one form or another, but it would be some form of an end nonetheless.

Josephine simply walked up to her and put a finger to her chin, lifting Claire's face up to have her look directly at her vessels bright jade green eyes. The soft breeze blew right through her loosely curled honey brown hair, and her smile remained as gentle and reassuring as possible. She was hopeful, trusted, and would remain to keep Claire on the path of a destiny that she herself had yet to fully realize. It was important, this much she knew, and it was her responsibility to make sure that it kept going. Kept moving forward. No matter what the outcome, she had to believe that this child, this strong little girl could change it all, and bring peace to something that was completely shattered. Her journey would be hard, but it would also be positive and life changing, and not just for her. Claire would receive her reward. Everyone else would too. All that was needed for the first step to get it going, and it all started with her.

"Don't worry about a thing Claire. God always forgives if you repent yourself of your actions. I know that I don't need to tell you that, but someday soon you will understand." She moved her hands to brace Claire's own, as if to affirm what she truly believed in her own right. "I have complete faith in you Claire Novak, just as much as Castiel has in you. He has _all_ his faith in you, and I can clearly see why."

Claire simply continued to watch her, as if trying to find any form of deceit in her face. Josephine simply smiled, and raised a hand to softly wipe a fallen tear from her face. Claire was confused, a mess, but even though she looked weak she felt strong, and Josephine saw it shine as clear through her brightened soul as anyone she had ever encountered.

This child was the key, and only she would realize it when the moment finally came. When time would come to reclaim what was lost, and rekindle what had been broken. She would bring it back, and only she would be able to do so. Because she believed. Because she had faith. Because she had hope. That was all the tools she needed.

Now all that was left to do, was begin. And it all started, with forgiving.

* * *

><p><em>His skin burned. Tore. Ripped apart and shredded like delicate paper. He was beaten, mercilessly as the four avenging seraphim descended upon him. Upon this 'worm' that had released such a horrible evil and had used it to proclaim himself a God. It was a mistake, but he found himself feeling no regrets. Not until they made him. Until they forced it upon him. Not until he felt their wraths, and his became nothing in comparison. Castiel was defeated, lying in a pool of his own vessel's blood, battered, broken and bruised, but his nightmare had only just begun.<em>

_He had betrayed Heaven, betrayed the Father, betrayed his brethren, and betrayed his faith. His punishment was just beginning, and he would forever remember the consequences of his actions. The four avengers of God would show him no mercy, for he was not their God, but another fallen angel of Heaven. He had become the worst of them all, even that of the Morning Star, and his release of all the souls of purgatory had showed them what lengths he had been willing to take, simply to get what he wanted. His greed would cost him, perhaps even cost much of the world, but he was their most pressing matter now. Castiel had betrayed them, betrayed everyone, and for that, he was to pay the most severe price._

_Each one took their place before him, silently shunning him for his misdeeds, before each one struck him down. His punishment would be just, they said. It would be carried out. It would be painful. It would be necessary, in the name of the Father, and to all those who followed him. Castiel would be made the example, so much like had been done the last time the ultimate evil had walked the Earth. Legion was the cancer amongst all others, and this angel, this, former soldier of God and savior of the Righteous Man, would be taught his lesson. Castiel would assume the role, and be dealt with dearly for it._

_He stopped feeling anything after the third, even less when the fourth began, but still he did feel. Even now, with his ordeal over and his life now restored, his pain would never go away. Not truly. For it could never be taken from him, not so long as he lived, and Castiel knew, that his burden would be shared. He fought desperately to keep it, to hold it all back and suffer for it alone. He had dragged another innocent victim into his mess, and now she was also paying the price. Castiel hated himself for it, _hated_ it, but couldn't help but feel relief at her presence. At knowing she was there, even through it all. She had never turned her back on him, would never do so if she tried, and for this, he felt grateful._

_Castiel would pay ultimately for his sins, and he prayed, that when the time came, that she would receive her reprieve. Receive her reward. Receive her peace. Because she deserved so much more than that, and he was willing to do _anything_, to give it back to her._

…

_The nightmares had begun again, tearing at his brain until there was nothing left to take. Castiel was alone, defenseless, but still he fought to keep them at bay. His eyes remained shut, squeezed tightly together as if to keep himself from seeing. He feared that this nightmare was somehow real, would somehow reach back out and grasp him, to pull him back down and tear him apart. His fear still gripped him, sweat beginning to streak down his brow and clam his skin. He was trapped, feeling the rage of his four highest brethren taken out on him, and he felt each whip and lash just as much as he did before. Castiel was in fear, captured in his dreams for the evils he had committed, and he knew that there was no escape._

_He suddenly felt a hand grip his shoulder, shaking him awake and chasing away the nightmares. When he didn't respond they shook harder, trying to force him in consciousness and drag him out of his Hell; raise him from his perdition._

"Come on boy, wake up."

_They were calling to him now, forcing him to fade out of the darkness and open his eyes to the light. Their voice sounded so familiar, so safe, and yet so gruff and firm. Castiel tried reaching out to it, tried to pull himself up from where he lay, and only when the voice called out to him again, did he finally manage the feat._

Castiel slowly opened his eyes, focusing with all his strength to find the one who had been calling out to him. He now felt a calloused hand on his cheek, tapping against it lightly as they continued to force him awake. Castiel didn't appreciate the gesture, not that he could really feel it, but still didn't like it nonetheless. It was Bobby who had been calling to him, rousing him from his nightmares and bringing him into reality. Castiel had never been so glad to see the old hunter, but still felt his guard remain around his heart. Bobby may have just helped him from his recent struggle, but he knew the man still had it in for him after everything he had done, after everything he had broken. Bobby was the closest thing he saw as a father other than his own, and even if he had his ways of showing care toward any of the Winchester brothers, Castiel also knew that he was just as strong when it came to his anger. All of them held a little of it inside, and he couldn't help but wonder, when exactly he would bring that out.

He needn't had to worry at that moment.

"You okay there son?"

Castiel wanted to say something, but felt his throat parched and cracked, and only managed a small nod before the air that breached his lungs passed and caused him to cough. He held a fist firmly over his mouth, trying to suppress the ache currently traveling up his throat until he felt a hand squeeze at this shoulder and another hold a glass of water in front of him. Castiel slowly reached out for it and carefully pressed it to his lips, taking in the cool liquid and relieving the dryness currently attacking his voice. He was grateful for its relief, felt the arid feeling disappear as his thirst was quenched. He tried to ignore the look Bobby gave him as he drank, downing almost half the glass before he pulled it away.

Castiel didn't know what to say, other than thank you of course, and tried to keep his gaze focused on the glass currently sitting in his lap before Bobby finally had the courage to speak up for him.

"How you feelin'?" His voice was gentle, caring, and held not the slightest bit of arrogance. Bobby was being honest, careful, and apparently, concerned and kind. Castiel had missed that, knew when and how he'd lost it, but relished in its glory, for however long he would have it. He give him a simple answer, a truthful one, but still vague nonetheless. Castiel had much more to say, but thought better to leave it for another time when he actually had the strength to say them.

"Tired." He didn't even bother to look up, his eyes staying concentrated on the water wrapped loosely in his fingers as Bobby tried not to move his gaze.

"Can't understand why. You've been sleeping almost a day." He didn't even sound like he was teasing, simply being mindful and patient, and the hand that was on his shoulder now patted him on the back as he slowly picked himself up from the edge of the bed and stared down at him. Castiel still avoided his gaze, didn't dare look at him, but snapped his head up at the next words the hunter said to him. "Get up and shower. I'll have something for you to eat when you get downstairs. I want to talk to you about something."

He didn't even sound harsh, simply subtle, cautious, but also understanding. Castiel didn't know what to make of it, but simply nodded his head softly as Bobby turned to leave, his hands now finding themselves in his pockets.

"Don't take too long okay."

Bobby simply headed out and closed the door behind him, leaving Castiel with his mouth slightly opened and eyes wide in surprise. Bobby was acting different towards him, for reasons he could not explain right now, but unpredictable nonetheless. Castiel took a few moments before finally being able to gather himself and pick himself up, placing the glass on the nightstand and dragging his aching limbs to the edge of the bed. He was tired, exhausted, but felt a sudden strength surge through him as he picked himself up and took the first step towards the bathroom. Bobby had even gone as far as preparing a warm shallow bath, knowing that he would more than likely not be able to stand long enough to actually take a shower, and Castiel found himself almost smiling at the extra steps that had been taken. Bobby was changing, slowly and surely he was changing, but Castiel still felt that tiny bit of fear in an anticipation for the talk that he wanted to have with him. Castiel almost dreaded agreeing to the discussion, but chose to follow it anyway.

He was starting to see if not a little hope over the horizon, and it was all starting with the last person he honestly expected it to. It didn't matter anyway. Castiel had that one simple fact in the back of his mind, the one that haunted him every day, and he found himself falling into it as he lowered himself into the water. It brought little comfort to him, its warmth suddenly going cold at the thought of what he hid from them. What he hid from all of them. Castiel knew it. Knew that it wouldn't be much longer, but chose to ignore it for the time being until the time came closer for him. He simply focused on this one moment, concentrated solely on the now, and let himself be comforted, if even for just a little.

It was all he wanted for that moment, as all the cares in the world quietly let him be.

**To Be Continued…**

**Authors End Note:** Yeah…latest blogs I'm hearing tell me that there will definitely be some interesting plots unfolding this season. Including the brothers working with Crowley again. Can I say…WTF? They expect us to shun Cas for making a deal with Crowley and working with him but we're supposed to accept that Sam, Dean and Bobby can do it without just as much criticism? Seriously? (Yes Zeppx I know I'm quoting your tweet but I actually caught this on the internet a few hours before I saw it, I'm just agreeing with your point lol) But really, what the hell. Sera, you're really starting to test my patience and if this is some way to cling onto all the drama just so we're shocked at that moment Cas is finally saved and redeemed, all I can say is that you are not helping with my blood pressure and stress levels woman. So not healthy. I think I'm done with my rant now. Oh and yes, a thank you to Cyberbutterfly for giving me a little inspiration in this chapter. I'm sure you know where I'm talking about sweetie. ;D Review please? *goes off to sleep now*


	11. Chapter 11

**Authors Note:** Oh my God, it's here, it's here, it's here, it's here, IT'S HERE! *takes deep breath* Sorry about that, but I'm actually finally really excited for the premiere now instead of dreading it and I just had to get this out. S-O anyways, this chapter took an interesting turn for me just like last chapter and I'm actually somewhat perplexed at where I took it, but now I don't care because I just really want this story to have a happy ending when it gets there (I don't see the end of anytime soon because I have _so_ much to cover) but yeah, it was originally not going to have one but I of course, changed my mind. ;D We are allowed to do that right? 'O.o Lol, don't mind me. I just finally got a little more sleep than the last few nights (if you call 6 hours decent enough for you) and I'm just really happy to see that my muse still hasn't left me (starts preparing for the backlash just in case). Anyways, sorry I'm ranting but the premiere has me super, SUPER excited and I just want it to be 9:00pm already (it's currently 6:00am now). Crap I'm still ranting! *takes another deep breath* Okay, so in regards to the story I first had Sam take the leap in forgiving Cas and now I will be tackling Bobby. Guess there's only one more person left after that *shutters*, and I'm still trying to figure out where I'm gonna go with that. I'll try not to disappoint anyone here and please review to let me know what you think. I'd appreciate the feedback. *off to prepare for the premiere now and get my shit together; hopefully our boys will do the same*

**Written:** 22 September

**Soundtrack:** Blindness by Metric

**Word Count:** 1700+

"_Trust in the Lord with all your heart; and don't lean on your own understanding. In all things acknowledge him, and He shall direct your way."_

Proverbs 3:5-6 – The Bible

**Chapter 11**

Both of them sat quietly, one across from the other as Bobby simply watched him eat his meal. He couldn't remember the last time he had seen Castiel eat, it was obviously looking like it had been a while, but still he pressed on and continued to offer him seconds after his first bowl was finished. Castiel hesitantly agreed, his stomach cramping a little after so long without the familiarity of food inside, and quietly kept his head down until Bobby returned.

He carefully put the bowl back down in front of him, taking his seat back across the table from him and continued staring. It made Castiel feel incredibly uncomfortable, but he tried very hard to ignore it and focused instead on his meal. His thoughts were still a jumbled mess, causing his limbs to quiver just a bit and even had his leg bouncing up and down a little underneath the table. Bobby wasn't foolish. He knew Castiel was nervous, just as much as he was, only the hunter didn't actually show it and went about watching him carefully.

After Castiel was done and placed the spoon back into the now empty bowl, Bobby reached out for it and asked him if he wanted another. Castiel simply shook his head, indicating that he had had enough and Bobby simply nodded as he stepped away to put the dish in the sink.

Castiel was nervous, beyond nervous really, his hands now buried deep between his legs and eyes still staring down at the table. His limbs were still shaking, noticeably under the light jeans that he wore but not much under his dark blue hooded sweater. His foot would not stop tapping the floor, no matter how much he mentally begged it to stop, and instead just tried to ignore it in the hopes that the pestering gesture would just go away on its own. It only made matters worse when Bobby returned and sat back down at the table, his arms now stretched out in front of him as if to reach out to the angel right across. Castiel still refused to look at him, his face pulled down in a small frown as he tried to hide himself within his thoughts. He was regretting this moment, afraid to hear what it was that Bobby had to say after a year of saying nothing to him at all. So it came to a surprise when Bobby spoke, his words gentle and humble, reassuring and even graceful. Honestly, Castiel never would have thought it capable.

"You're still family. I hope you know that."

Castiel simply swallowed, whether to hold back tears that now threatened to fall at the sound of those words or to keep down the bile he could feel wanting to travel up at his disgust of the idea. He still hated himself for it, for everything he had done, and even after the cruel actions he had taken against the woman Bobby once was in love with, and apparently still had been, he was still willing to call him family. Call him a son, as he had done just earlier when he had awakened him and pulled him from his nightmare. Castiel felt ashamed, unclean, and balled his hands into fists at the anger that began to travel through his veins. He was angry with himself, vengeful, and still this man refused to see it. Refused to acknowledge it. It felt like a punch in the gut, as if the harshest words he could ever say to him were those and those alone. Castiel felt sorrowful, pathetic, but ultimately confused, for it was still a mystery to him how Bobby Singer could look pass and through so much and still take back so little. Castiel was hurt, mentally burying himself in so much doubt, and here stood Bobby, the old hunter who was the caretaker of both Winchester boys and a second father to them too. Castiel had now fallen under that category, not as burden but as a responsibility, and he found that he actually hated that fact.

"I just wanted you to know that. You're still a part of this family, and that's never gonna change." Castiel looked up only slightly, the confusion and despair in his eyes bleeding clearly to the hunter. Bobby chose to continue, but decided that the rest of what he wanted to say would have to wait. It was obvious that Castiel was not in the right state of mind, and decided that now wasn't the time for much else than the main point he wanted to get across. "We all screw up Cas, every single one of us have. But that doesn't change the fact that you're with us now. Nothing will change in that aspect. Got it?"

Bobby could see him struggling, contemplating with himself and what he said, and decided that Castiel still wasn't ready for that issue to be tackled yet. He had at least let him know, and that would have to do for now until their issues started to come to light.

He simply left it at that, and put a reassuring hand on his shoulder before walking away.

Castiel just sat there, hearing the words continuing to ring in his ears even after Bobby's footsteps faded away. The only noise left in the house was the sound of his own breathing, shallow and quivering, and it suddenly began to become too much for him. He suddenly felt anxious, uncertain and soon became nauseous. He barely made it in time to the bathroom, before emptying most of the contents of his stomach into the basin. He continued heaving long after that, his gut rebelling and twisting his insides. He hated himself, couldn't seem to face all the realities that were now bombarding him and all he wanted was to be left alone. It almost seemed funny. Just the day before he was looking forward to having someone by him, supporting him, and now that he was slowly trying to get it, he found that he couldn't handle it. Didn't want it anymore. Couldn't take it.

After just a small while, he wiped away at his mouth and slowly picked himself up onto his shaking legs. He needed to leave, just get out of here for a while and be alone. He quickly rinsed to rid himself of the foul taste, and after seeing that no one else was left inside, headed for the back door and started walking. He didn't have a destination in mind, just needed to walk, run if he had the strength, but all he wanted at that moment was to just simply walk.

He passed by several rusted, beaten car piles, taking left and right turns at random until he found himself somewhere near the back end of the salvage yard. He was far enough away to keep anyone from hearing him, until the house was merely a speck off into the distance. Still he kept walking, meeting the fence towards the end and simply turning again to keep going. He kept walking, pacing himself throughout the grounds until he got tired. His back ached, his knees popped, and his lungs began to burn. He had been out for what seemed like hours, but still he continued to push himself physically as his brain challenged him mentally. He was confused, impatient, and bitter, his mind just a solid mess of mayhem and misery that wouldn't stop taunting him no matter how much he tried to run away from it.

He felt his heart racing, pulse pounding, and head hurting.

His vision was beginning to strain, white dots popping up before him and black starting to descend from the sides. The sudden tired feeling only had him believing what he was sure he already knew. He knew what this feeling meant, had had it happen several times before already in the past few weeks, only this time, it felt stronger. It was heavy, intense in both sensation and swiftness, and soon enough he felt his legs wanting to give out. He didn't even get the chance to consider stopping, before his mind grew cloudy and his limbs felt heavy. His breath was now catching in his throat, the need to gather air into his lungs feeling too hard of a feat to do. His vision was now swimming, looking blurry and distorted before he felt himself falling. He didn't even feel himself hit the ground, his weight falling completely onto his right side and back as his head began to numb.

He was tired, exhausted, but still he focused on his breathing, listening to the push and pull of his lungs as he felt another sensation starting to travel down his lip. He heard the soft sound of drops in the dirt, in which he was sure was the sound of his blood now trailing from his nose. He knew what this was, had been having it happen for some time now, and he couldn't help but wonder how long he would be out of it this time. Sometimes these spells would last only a moment, other times it would be several minutes, and on occasion had caused hours to pass before he had awakened. He didn't very much care at this point. His mind was growing weary, matching exactly how he felt both physically and emotionally, and simply allowed himself to close his eyes and just stop fighting it.

He felt no panic at that moment. Only peace. Not giving a care about anything or anyone, and he couldn't help but wonder if this was finally it. He had been waiting for it for a while now, knew that it was coming, and he silently prayed for God to simply take him. All he wanted was relief from his pain, and he silently hoped, that now was when he would finally get it.

Little did he know that there were two people who had felt his slip into oblivion. One knew immediately what it meant. The other, only had a faint idea. Still, when it came to the now rising sensation digging at their chests, both would find that they would put away their differences at that moment, and simply fight together for him. To find him. For his sake.

**To Be Continued…**

**Authors End Note:** I think I've said enough in the author's note don't you think? *grins* This chapter was very short I know, but I promise to make up for it in the next. I just really wanted to put this out there now and get it out of the way before I saw the premiere and changed my mind. Off to prepare for the premiere now! Yay! *grins like an idiot*


	12. Chapter 12

**Authors Note:** Okay, so thoughts on the premiere first before anything…WTF? ! ? ! ? ! ? ! ? ! I don't know whether to be amused, happy or just pissed off! Yes, he got rid of the souls, sure, Cas asked for forgiveness, okay, Dean assured a redemption even though his first instinct was to kill Castiel (Dean you're such a fucking DICK, pull your head out of your $$ already damn it! You fucking heartless *bleep*!), Bobby's quote about changing Dean's answer about "thanking God" (freakin' priceless really; I laughed at that one :D) but then THAT? ! Cas has to go dark side AGAIN, just when he gets rid of the fucking souls! You're killing me Gamble! First he goes all nuts, goes on a killing spree, rids the souls at Sam's request (who didn't see _that_ coming, I knew it'd be him since he's got the bigger heart), dies again, is revived, and then goes CRAZY because of the fucking monsters that he didn't manage to get rid of. Anyways, I'm fucking confused, I'm hurt, I was crying hysterically in the end because really, Dean just can't get a fucking break right when he finally deserves one, Sam is losing his marbles with Lucifer (who is still as much a riot as ever; now bring back Gabriel and I'd be extremely happy), Dean just lost his best friend and angel, AGAIN, and now it seems like Cas is gonna have even more of a struggle with this new threat and going monster crazy (Am I the only one who was creeped out by that smile in the end by the way, I mean holy *bleeping* *bleep* *shudders*)! I mean seriously, WTF Sera. I'm not gonna lie, I have more hope now that everything will get better (however long that takes, and if the next episode doesn't kill it for me that is), but if Sera Gamble manages to mess that up BIG time, then I'm fucking out. I'm just gonna throw my hands in the air and say it. "Fuck this shit! I give up. I'm done! Screw all of you guys!" (Never thought I'd get so personal with a TV show ever in my life. By the way, how can they not be tackling the fact of Balthazar being dead? Loop hole anyone? Among others. *starts filing that with all my others*) I mean really, just when we thought we could maybe get something good the writers still screw us over (although it makes for an interesting and exciting plot twist in my opinion, which only wants me having more I'm not gonna lie), I mean HOLY SHIT! I really don't know what the fuck to think right now besides "You guys suck" and "You really know how to keep me on edge". Other than that, I need to go find a corner and drink myself some very hard liquor or something (more than likely won't happen knowing me). *dashes off to find the nearest and strongest stuff; ends up buying half the candy aisle instead* Oh Gamble, you really know how to break this poor fans heart…but crap do I want it to be next Friday already! *starts praying for Cas' fate* I think I'm gonna need therapy after all this. GGGAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! ! ! ! ! ! ! !

**Written:** 23 September

**Soundtrack:** Carnival of Rust by Poets of the Fall

**Word Count:** 3200

"_He that loveth his life shall lose it; and he that hateth his life in this world shall keep it unto life eternal."_

John 12:25 – The Bible

**Chapter 12**

Dean tried hard to ignore it, this sinking feeling in his gut, but it seemed that Fate just wouldn't let him have it. (He already knew never to piss that woman off personally, believe me) Yes, he was still ticked off, sure he still needed some time to vent (as if a year wasn't already long enough) but still, something was telling him that he needed to go do something and where he needed to go to actually do it. Deep down he could feel it, had been the _whole_ time, but never once acted upon it for fear that he was wrong. Even after every trial, every tribulation and even each turmoil that followed, Dean knew it for a fact. And now it seemed that his theory may just have been put to the test. He was sure she knew too, was almost positive, but God only knew which of them would find him first. Dean just put away his pride and swallowed, slowly walking back to the house and finding everyone there, minus one former angel, just as he thought.

He noticed Claire sitting on the couch, face looking drawn and skin pale, almost as if she was ready to pass out. Sam was kneeling in front of her with a glass of water, Bobby standing just beside her, both looking worried, and Dean was more than sure of it now. Before they could even ask he high tailed out the door, his feet shuffling in the dirt as he paced himself around the yard. He knew it, could see it in her glassy and empty eyes that something definitely wasn't right here. He just started walking, his steps hard and pounding on the ground before him as he searched for what he hoped would be something, anything to point him in the right direction. He felt his eyes glassing, burning, his heart pounding in his ears as he walked and started cursing at himself. He felt so shameful, so fucking stupid, for not being there and worst of all, for not listening. He had been hearing it for a while, had been for a long time, maybe even since the beginning. _Since the very first day_...

_Listen to your heart you fucking moron_.

Great. His brain just knew exactly what to say during these situations. Not that he didn't already know it deep down, but still, he did sometimes need to have his headed rammed against a wall or something for him to actually understand. Yes, he _was_ just that stubborn. Dean continued walking, his steps getting heavier and gaining speed with each one he took.

He was surrounded by metal, rusted old things that smelled strongly of gas, motor oil and grease. He was suddenly feeling claustrophobic, like he couldn't breathe, but still he pressed on and continued searching. He was stubborn, arrogant, but above all he was righteous; hell he'd made a life out of being so. No matter what ill feelings he had had against Cas, no matter what he had done, even though he had screwed with the most important person in his life, his little brother, he ended up realizing something in the end. Cas had fallen under that category, had _become_ a part of his family, remembering those fateful words that Bobby had told him that fateful night just before he went to Hell. Family didn't end in blood, he knew that already, and he had only just realized that it meant him as well. Cas had managed to slip under his skin, from the arrogant dick he was the moment they first met, to the naïve, clueless, head tilting, reference losing, trench coat wearing nerdy little guy that he had become, Dean couldn't help but accept it. Cas was family. Through thick and thin he had had their backs, Dean had had his as well, but one secret kept between each other had virtually ruined it all, and he couldn't help but still feel angry towards him. He had done it just for show at first, because he thought Sam and Bobby had still felt the same, but now the two of them had put their issues aside, of only just for a moment, and now it was his turn.

Dean wasn't ready for that. Not really. He still needed time, a chance to think, only now, he didn't know if he would get the opportunity. He had been feeling it for some time, knew that something deep inside the former angel wasn't working right, and Dean started to fear that Cas was hiding that from him too. _Damn self righteous bastard_. Dean gritted his teeth, his eyes squeezing shut as he found yet another reason to hate himself. Castiel would never have done that. Never have given up everything he had just for the sake of him and humanity (Jesus-_freakin_-Christ), but yet he had and Dean hadn't even noticed. Didn't think to care, all because he was sucked up with his own personal problems. Claire had been right, he was ungrateful, angry, spiteful. Castiel had given it all, had lost everything dear to him including his family, home and their friendship, and they in return had turned their backs on him. Dean most of all. He was the dick now, the cold and heartless a-hole that chose to look away when in reality he wanted to extend a hand. Only he didn't, just to keep appearances, which wasn't what actually mattered.

Another thing that he had realized too late, in more ways than one.

Dean continued pacing, moving randomly through every junk pile and then some, hoping for some sort of sign that would point him to where he needed to go. Again, his heart took over in that aspect (it could stand to do that a little more, he thought) and he simply followed blindly as if it already knew the way. He lasted only a few more minutes, making it to the back of the yard before taking a sharp left turn and heading west towards one of the far corners of the place. Dean only had to take a few more steps, before he finally found who he was looking for, only it wasn't what he expected, or wished to find him.

Dean felt his stomach drop, his eyes stinging and face sweating before he took the last few steps to reach him. Dean went back to that day when the souls had been ripped out, before everything else went to shit, and he couldn't help but wonder if the former angel had finally bit the big one (again), just as he had thought that very same moment.

Dean quickly knelt down beside him, quietly whispering to himself repeatedly "no, no, no, no" until he reached a hand towards the pulse point in Cas' neck and found it pounding beneath his fingers, a little slow but surprisingly steady. Dean let out a sigh of relief, although it wasn't really, not when he was staring at his friend lying there unconscious, bleeding and bloodlessly pale. Dean started calling his name, attempting to wake him as one hand found its way on the right side of his face while the other gently tapped at the other. Dean tried staying calm, feeling his breath catch in his throat at every one that Cas took, and finally breathed a huge sigh of relief as his ministrations had Cas finally rousing.

He looked completely clueless, confused and just downright tirelessly miserable. Dean tried getting him to focus, slowly, as he helped get him to his feet and asking him if he was okay. It was a stupid question really.

Castiel simply nodded his head, which only made it hurt more and increase the headache already forming there, before slowly wiping away at the blood that now caked on his skin with his sleeve, and allowing Dean to pull him up. Cas felt boned tired, simply and utterly exhausted (in almost every aspect possible) and just allowed Dean to force him onto his feet before his head started swimming. He didn't take more than two steps before his knees let him down, his hand catching him before he fell back onto the ground face first, and Dean gratefully caught him.

He moved his arm from its position braced around Cas' to help him stay upright, and swiftly twisted it around to prop the former angel onto his back, which only gave Castiel a head rush. Cas felt a little awkward at the sudden change in position, Dean admittedly too, but neither one wanted to address the matter as the hunter carefully braced his arms under Cas' legs and supported him, carrying his entire load. Castiel simply let his arms fall where they had landed, the remainder of his pitiful strength being used to hold them tight around Dean's neck as his head simply plopped onto his shoulder. Castiel just wanted to sleep, right then and there, but fought with himself to stay awake just so he didn't look anymore pathetic.

Dean could sense his tension, knew that he was trying his hardest to avoid even looking at him as he carried him back towards the house, but didn't want to press onto the matter just this minute. Cas could barely keep his eyes open, Dean was suddenly feeling a little tired himself, but didn't dare let himself fall into a funk of his own just because he was feeling a little like crap. He had said a lot of things, many of which he didn't mean, and he started to hope that maybe he could find the moment to finally take them back. Cas was miserable enough, for both of them and then some presumably, and Dean sure as hell wasn't going to give him anymore to deal with when he had already had more than his fair share. Dean just continued walking, focused on just getting to the house and forcing the angel to rest and take it easy while he asked Bobby to call in another favor with his lady friend Andrea. Cas had obviously been hiding this, for more than just a little while, and Dean wanted some fucking answers now before the next time he found him like this, he would be carrying him in a casket instead of on his back.

Dean felt his teeth gritting at that moment, his anger flaring once again for Cas keeping secrets from him, but figured that he didn't have room to talk when he himself didn't offer any help. Dean knew, had known for a while, but just never cared to look. He swore to himself to change that, to start to turn a blind eye towards the whole ordeal just so they could finally get some peace and take their heads out of their asses. God knew that Sam and Bobby had already done so, they could forgive, so why the hell couldn't he?

_Cause you're Dean _fuckin'_ Winchester that's why._

So not the time right now, he thought, as he spotted the house coming up slowly in the distance. Castiel simply sat there, barely making a move or saying a word as Dean pressed forward. Honestly, it was kind of how he preferred it after all the shit they had already gone through, silence was nice for once, but then Cas just had to ruin it with his little pity party and get Dean all riled up again. _Freakin' dick_.

"I'm sorry."

_And damn him to Hell for sounding so sincere and noble about it_. Dean just rolled his eyes, silently cursing for allowing himself to get so deep into the situation before finally heaving out a sigh and responding back. The least he could do was tell him how he felt, even if he was being a dick about it.

"Stop apologizing Cas. I've already heard you the first hundred times." Dean didn't even sound harsh, surprisingly, but he still felt bad as he bit down on his tongue and heaved out a sigh. He truly was at his wits end, and he finally just came to the conclusion that he could just screw it. Let all the shit go and deal with it tomorrow since it would more than likely still be there. Dean just sighed, and closed his eyes a second before finally mouthing off his own words, words that should have been said a long ass time ago. "I'm sorry too."

The silence between the two of them after that wasn't even awkward either, Cas actually smiling a little as he finally allowed himself to close his eyes and fall into sleep, protectively supported by his friend. Dean didn't even protest, feeling the breath slowly growing steady and even against his neck as he took the final steps towards the porch and into the house.

…

Cas was fine for a little while, silently sleeping on the couch for a few hours until that night. If Dean didn't already know the routine of his life, he would have thought things were looking up, but even he already knew that things always got worse before they actually got better.

…

Cas' condition had gotten worse, his problems starting somewhere between midnight and dawn and leading Sam, Dean and Bobby to take evasive action. There was no letting this one slide now, Andrea made sure to note that too when she had gotten the call (_You get his ass here now_), and promptly obeyed doctors orders and checked him into the hospital.

Castiel had been coughing up blood, his breathing now becoming labored and a massive struggle as his body began to burn with fever. All of them were convinced that this was some form of infection, Bobby getting the 411 on the blood work from the previous incident and finding out that it actually came out normal. Bobby only hmphed, knowing it was bull, but frankly, she could give him no more answers. He lasted only a day, his body being pumped with fluids and antibiotics on an hourly basis and complaining that he really didn't want to be there. The family insisted that he had to be, just to make sure that nothing happened that they weren't prepared for, but still he insisted until he finally got his way. They checked him out, half drugged and loopy out of his mind, but still relieved nonetheless to just be going home.

They let him rest for a little while, every member of their crazy clan checking up on him periodically as he slept the hours away. It took a couple of days, but he was finally back on his own feet and gaining some form of a normal routine as he tried to get things with himself back in order. They had finally had their 'talk', cheated their way through it really considering Castiel was really only half conscious most of the time, but still, they had gotten most of it out of the way and decided that it was time to start letting bygones be bygones. All of them happily agreed, and let the awkward little moments in between just come as a much needed reprieve.

Claire still watched Dean like a hawk, looking like she would smite his ass if she had the motivation and the ability heaven forbid he put Cas down in any way. Sam and Bobby just found it amusing, Cas admittedly did too, but Dean couldn't help but scowl each and every time she did it. She was just protecting him, being careful and cautious considering that things were finally starting to look up a little. Castiel was finally talking again, spending less time locked up in his room and even using quality time to do simple things that he hadn't done in so long, mostly reading or sitting out in the garden out back. He would still have his talks with Claire, just like they always did on the phone before all the shit caved in on them, and he found himself actually feeling better with every conversation. She was still the one to hold him upright, always reminding him that everything was going to be okay and that he just had to start believing that. It took some time for him to actually do so, but eventually he started to see the other side of things and decided that wallowing in self pity just wasn't worth it anymore. His health started to improve, suddenly deteriorate in some instances, but still grow stronger and more resilient with each day that passed.

Dean really hated those moments, times he feared that Cas wouldn't be waking up at all this time until Sam and Bobby had to reassure him and urge him to calm the 'f' down. Deep down, they were worried too, curious as to why Cas' body was reacting this way, but that mystery had to be waited on until they figured out everything else on their plates first. Claire still stuck around, had for almost a couple of weeks now, and it didn't look like she would be leaving anytime soon.

There was only one thing that could make everything go to shit, and Dean had gotten it right then and there.

…

His phone started to ring, the unlisted number flashing over the screen as he chose to pick it up and answer. He thought that it might be another hunter, so many of them would somehow get his number and call him for various reasons, but this time just wasn't one of those instances. He would regret answering _this_ call.

"Hello?"

"Is she with you?"

Dean's blood froze, the unknown number on his caller id causing him to panic and his breath to catch in his throat. This was the last thing he needed, actually wanted to deal with at the moment, and he couldn't help but bulge his eyes and start praying towards Heaven to help him out this moment.

Monsters he could deal with. Angels he could handle. Freakin' ghosts and souls and princes of Hell were cake after you dealt with them once or twice, but this was where he drew the line. Dean Winchester could handle just about anything, every evil son of a bitch out there that had it out for him, but this, this he couldn't even prepare for. Bullshit with. Successfully lie to. This he actually begged for help with, and he started shaking his head to himself as if to ask God for this one thing. For God to just give him a sign, and help him out, just, this, _once_.

"Amelia?"

"Dean, if I find out Claire is with you I am personally going to find you and kick your ass myself. Now where is my daughter?"

Dean swallowed hard, knowing that he was a damn goner now. Supernatural baddies he could deal with. Pissed off Moms, there were no weapons that could counteract that. Dean was screwed, and he felt it quake in every limb and felt his forehead start to sweat. He simply held the phone to his ear, and couldn't mouth a word…at least, not out loud anyway.

_Oh sh-_…

**To Be Continued…**

**Authors End Note:** I'll be honest, I was in my car blaring my SPN playlist (same 30 songs playing over and over this whole week out of the 800+ I could be enjoying, sad I know) at the crack of dawn and writing this, and I feared that I wouldn't actually get it out. Whew. Thank God the premiere spared my muse, however close that was. :D Anyways, I was trying to imagine Leviathan Cas while re-reading through this and I couldn't help but think, "What a sassy, flaunting bastard I would picture him to be." Needless to say, I actually wanna tackle the drama queen now. Oh crap…lol. Reviews make me happy and certainly make things positive. So do it, please? ;D *goes off to watch the premiere again*


	13. Chapter 13

**Authors Note:** Yep, four and half hours of sleep, an hour early for work (it's all for the sake of the muse I swear) and SPN playlist blaring in my car (I'm in an empty parking lot at 5:30 in the morning, who's gonna hear it really lol). So, I've actually started to draw out the outline for this story and I've got to say, it's gonna be long as _Hell_… It may not be in word count, but guaranteed that it will surpass the number of chapters than even my story "Prayers" has. I'm tackling so much stuff, from the four main seraphim, God, Leviathan, Death, Castiel's Grace, the Seven Princes of Heaven, the whole freakin' enchilada (I could really go for one of those right now too, yum). Anyways, losing my train of thought, I'll being dropping a bomb in this chapter (well, more like two) as well as in the next one (more like several), so get ready for that. I'll also be introducing two more characters into the story, one angel and one demon, but you'll have to read to find out who. You know what to do now, so start scrolling.

**Written:** 24 September

**Soundtrack:** Get Out Alive by Three Days Grace

**Word Count:** 6100+

"_Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends."_

John 15:13 – The Bible

**Chapter 13**

Damn it. Dean didn't have time for this shit. Yet here he was, stuttering to get a fucking word in while Amelia Novak talked his ear off shouting and threatening to beat him to a pulp if she found that her daughter was indeed with them. Claire had been gone for days, weeks actually, and Amelia had been left with nothing but a letter saying that she needed to go and that everything would be okay. That wasn't enough for her though, and after learning that her daughter had somehow acquired a certain ex-angels phone number (why the Hell he even had one was beyond her) and had been talking to him, frankly, she wasn't very happy. Thanks to the _new_ lifestyle the two of them had been thrown into ever since that whole demon possession angel avenging thing, Amelia was always being cautious, and apparently noted that Claire had learned quite a few things about getting things she wanted or needed. And apparently, she wanted to talk to Castiel, bad enough to hack into the freakin' communications database and find his old number, which he thankfully still had connected strangely enough. Unfortunately for Dean though, Amelia had used the same trick after learning successfully how to do it, and had now acquired his number as well as Sam's, Bobby's _and_ Castiel's. She had called him first, all her calls had been ignored of course which she was more than sure was Claire's doing, and decided to shift gears and just call the hunter. Needless to say, he was just as surprised as she to see that he answered, and that he now had the teenagers mother talking his ear off and screaming that she wanted her daughter back. Clearly, she was still having issues about the whole Cas taking Jimmy thing. This woman did not need to be pissed off, _again_.

Dean tried explaining, like the honest way to do it, but then at the last second decided the Hell with it and just started lying. God knew he had enough problems, he might as well just a stick a fork in this one and prayed to Him that it stuck. At least for a little while. No one ever had a time frame for these things. "I don't know where she is Amelia."

"I don't believe you!"

Dean simply sighed as he thought out what to do. He knew that this was a shitty thing to do, to lie to a mother of all people about the whereabouts of her child, but frankly Cas was better off when Claire was around, actually coming out of his depression filled shell (he had been professionally diagnosed sadly) and actually giving a crap about other things in life again, even when he was feeling like crap. It had been too long and too damn daunting to get him to view things differently, and Dean sure as hell wasn't going to let that stop if he had lost the one true friend who had stood behind him the entire time. Dean really felt like a dick at that moment for remembering that little detail, but brushed it off as he continued to hear Amelia go crazy with worry from the other line. He didn't want to scare her, wanted to tell her the truth, but the truth was that Claire _was_ okay and that she didn't need to worry. She had the four of them watching her (and an angel that he wasn't aware of), and that was more than enough to guarantee her safety. At least in his eyes.

The least he could do, was assure her. "Amelia I promise you, if I hear anything about Claire then I will call you, but she is not with us. I promise."

"You better not be lying to me Dean." She didn't believe him, had no reason too, but her anger was starting to turn into fear and frustration, and Dean almost caved the moment he heard a sob escape her lips. She was worried, as a mother she had every right to be, but this was bigger than she and he and everything else right now. Claire was keeping things together, as unstable as many things were she was, and Dean couldn't afford to let anything happen to her in order to keep that. He had to lie, even if it hurt Amelia even more than she already was. "Please," she begged, trying to keep herself together and keep all other thoughts of something happening at bay from her mind. It wasn't easy, but she still had her faith in God after everything that had happened, and she had only but Him to turn to in her most desperate need. She would do no different, even now. "Please Dean. If you find out anything, and I mean _anything_ about her, please just call me. I don't care what it is and I don't care at what time. I just want you to call me."

She sounded so desperate, he figured paternal instincts would do that, and he figured that the least he could do was give some small form of reassurance, even if it was a false one. "Amelia, you remember the day when Castiel said that angels kept their promises. That nothing would happen to you or your family ever right?"

He heard a sniff over the phone and a pause, before she finally whispered back to him and nodded. "Yes." Another sniff and cry passed before she continued. "Yes I remember."

Dean licked at his lips before continuing himself, praying to God that what he was about to say wasn't just complete crap.

"Claire has someone watching out for her. She always will, because Cas promised you that." Dean assured her slowly, hoping that it was the truth and that she would believe it too. She had to try, just like he was, but only he knew that it probably wouldn't be enough. At least he could pretend to act like he knew what he was talking about. "I promise you. Nothing is going to happen to Claire okay? _Nothing_."

She collected herself for a moment, praying to God that Dean was right, but that still didn't mean that she wasn't determined to keep looking, to keep searching. Claire was her daughter, and the only thing she had left in this world. If she lost her, she could just give it all up and give it back to God. She could just end it. "You better be right Dean." She said, her anger building back up and forging her wall, ready to take anyone who threatened her family again. She had already lost enough. She didn't want to lose the last thing that she felt was the most important thing in her life. She wouldn't dare it. "You better be right. Because if you're not, I'm coming after _you_."

Before Dean could even come up with a reply, she quickly hung up.

* * *

><p>Dean immediately let Claire know of the phone call, and she of course was not surprised, only that it had taken so long to actually find her. Dean wasn't amused, hoping that the kid wasn't starting to hit that rebellious stage or whatnot (which may have already been a little late to be honest), but still he insisted that she call her, at least to let her mom know that she was okay. Claire wanted to, had thought about it for days, but now was not the time, especially since she had only just spoken with Dean and that would immediately clue her in that he had lied to her. Dean actually saw her point, was thankful for it actually, and decided that maybe taking some time was actually a good idea.<p>

…

The days went by as usual, quiet and uneventful for the most part, and only the least bit stressful. Cas still had his down moments, no one leaving him alone for more than just a few minutes heaven forbid something happened when they weren't looking. It was touching, but after a while it was starting to get annoying, and he found himself actually getting more stressed from his lack of personal space. (Now he understood why Dean liked it so much)

He would always try and sneak away now and then, but never too far so as not worry anyone, and he mostly found himself in the backyard by the garden where he always preferred to be, or sometimes even on the roof. It was beautiful outside, breathtaking really, simple things such as seeing the flowers, hearing the birds and even feeling the dim sunlight on his skin bringing closure and peace to him every time he sat there. It was calm, tranquil, and not the least bit judgmental of him and his actions. It was just what he needed sometimes, to get him to stop thinking of all the other things. There was so much he wanted to say, wanted to do, but still he had his reasons and his insecurities, and just put them all aside until he found the right time to actually deal with them. He had enough on his plate right now. He just wanted to get those issues over with first before he started tackling anything else.

His thoughts were soon interrupted by footsteps, too light to be Claire's, a little too close to be Sam's, and certainly not heavy enough to be Bobby's, so that left him with but one other person.

"Hey Cas."

Dean. _He should have known_.

Castiel acknowledged him with simply a nod and a look, and the hunter returned it by simply sitting down next to him on the porch. The two just sat there, letting several minutes pass and watching the time fly while they gazed out at the scenery. There was so much to say, but neither one wanted to begin, and so they just let it by and took it for what it was. Repressed feelings. A _lot_ of them. There last talk had been simple, Dean admitting that he was still pissed about the whole thing with Sam's wall, and Cas explaining that he had to defeat Raphael at any cost simply to save all of them, and the two had eventually come to a truce, even if there was still so much more that needed to be covered. Castiel was still keeping things, a lot of things, and Dean had his fair share of secrets as well, especially one that had been eating him for years now. Neither one said a thing, simply because they didn't know how to start, and frankly it was starting to bother them both. Again, they were stubborn, stupid and pig headed, and the only way for them to finally admit to the other what they thought, how they felt, was to start another damn apocalypse and live through it. It seemed that only God could finally bring those two together, to finally dish out everything they wanted to say, but He sure as heck wasn't answering and Dean and Cas weren't going to ask. They had asked for enough favors from Him already. They could leave Him out of this one.

"Dean."

"Cas."

Both decided to start talking at that moment, and both stopped as soon as they heard the other speak. They looked away, unsure of what to say at that, and simply let the conversation drop before it even got a chance to begin. Castiel was frustrated, Dean was nervous, but neither one wanted to continue and simply let it go. Castiel looked away and decided to just walk away, the moment starting to become increasingly uncomfortable for him, and _so_ not what he needed. He didn't get the chance however, as a sudden wave of dizziness struck him and he began to sway. Dean immediately caught it in his peripheral vision and reached out just as Cas caught himself, his left hand bracing hard on the edge of the porch as Dean braced his back. He felt his eyes almost fall to the back of his head, but fought hard to fight back the cackling darkness that currently tried to consume him.

"Cas you alright?"

He didn't answer him, simply lay his head between his knees and held it in his hands, his eyes squeezing shut as he tried to ignore the pain currently building there. He was nauseous, sick, and felt incredibly weak as the headache that now racked his brain tightened its grip almost instantly. He felt like screaming, but also felt like giving in, but neither one got to happen as Dean braced his shoulders and pulled him out of it. Castiel felt his eyes drooping, looking over to see Dean's hold nothing but fear, panic and worry, and Castiel didn't want that. He knew it wasn't right to lie, but for his sake, he could do only that.

"It's alright," he whispered, really not liking the sound of his voice at that moment. The sound only had his headache growing worse, but he simply took it and tried assuring the hunter that he was fine. Dean wouldn't buy it, he never did anymore, but the least he could was try and convince him. "I'm just tired. That's all."

"Of course you are." Lies were pointless, Dean saw right through them these days, and decided that he wasn't going to put up with them anymore. Dean simply grabbed him by the arms and lifted him to his feet carefully, his grip tight to keep him upright but not too much so as not to hurt him. Dean was pissed, seething really, but surprisingly he found that it wasn't at him but at himself. He felt like this was his fault, all of it, and didn't even know where to begin to make amends. "Come on, you need to rest a little bit."

"I'm fine Dean."

"_Bull_, _crap_." Dean didn't even look at him, opening the back door as Castiel simply glared at him, as if to mentally tell him that he really wanted to kick his ass at that moment. Dean ignored it though and maneuvered him inside, watching Castiel brace the wall and then the counter until he took a hold of him again. Dean led him to the living room, his hands still braced on Castiel's shoulders as he took step after shaky step. Finally he managed to make it to the couch, and Castiel all but plopped himself on it as Dean helped keep him upright. He asked him if he needed anything, Castiel simply complaining that he had a small headache (another thing Dean knew to be bull) and decided to come back with the strong stuff for him to take. By the time he got back from the kitchen, Castiel was already laying down on his right side and had closed his eyes, hoping that sleep would relieve him of his current ailment and that that would be the end of it.

Dean got him to down the two pills and half the glass of water, before letting him lay back down and hopefully sleep it off. Castiel didn't even hear him after just a few minutes, his breaths coming out deep and even as he fell into slumber. Dean noticed him shivering, only just a bit, but still didn't like the shaking and went to the closet to grab a blanket to drape over him. Hopefully this would just be a small episode, not unlike the ones of late, but there was always that one chance that life just wouldn't let him catch a break.

That was the story of his life. It always gave him shit, and always made things worse before they got better. Thing was, he was really getting tired of it.

* * *

><p>To no surprise, Castiel only got worse, and the past three days in the house had only proven that. He had been moved upstairs after the first day, the headache only dulling a little until it blew into a full blown migraine that had Castiel almost crying from the pain it brought. He was losing it, the constant building of absolutely everything only make it worse and soon enough he was out for the count. Claire stood by his side most of the time, watching as he tried to sleep without the constant dulling throb that plagued him, and failing miserably at it. They had tried everything, from medication to massages and even other remedies, but all of them proved temporary until the pain just came back and even worse than before they tried. Dean was getting fed up, Sam and Bobby too, but Claire only insisted that they had to let it pass just like all the other times. The thing was that they didn't know how much longer this would take, and Dean had finally found himself at his wits end.<p>

He was currently in the kitchen, rinsing out the lukewarm washcloths in the sink and placing them back in the bowl that he had refilled with freezing water. Castiel's skin was now deathly pale, only looking worse now that he was sweating most of his fluids out from the fever that had crept up on them on the second day, and it was now pretty much a battle of trying to keep him cooled down while also trying to warm him up. The trembling had transformed into full body shakes, Castiel trying desperately to fight the pain in his head and now throughout his limbs as he curled himself into a ball on the bed. He had soaked through the sheets after the first night, the second just the afternoon after, and pretty soon they had to start collecting towels underneath him just so it could help soak some of the sweat. Castiel was a furnace, but he complained of feeling like an ice cube, and there was only so much they could do before his condition kept shifting back to Hell.

Bobby caught up with him, watching as the scowl on Dean's face only got harder as he braced his hands on the sink and let his thoughts drown out everything else around him. He was hurting, frustrated, and stressed out to his cap with everything that had been happening. This was something else than just some simple ailment, that he was more than certain of, but what pissed him off the most was that he couldn't figure out what the Hell it was. Doctors told him nothing, tests had become pointless, and even medicines weren't doing a damn thing anymore. Dean was desperate, and he could only think of one way to find the answers he so desperately needed.

"You okay Dean?"

Dean wanted to punch him at that moment, but knew that Bobby was only trying to help. Still, that didn't mean that he couldn't still let him know that he was pissed. "What do you think?"

His tone was irritating, firm, and Bobby tried to ignore it, to remember that this was just Dean's way of dealing with things. "I know it's not easy for you boy what we're trying damn it."

"We're not trying hard enough," he said, almost snapping as he stared back at his father figure with the most piercing look he could muster. "There's something else here, something else that is wrong with him and he's not telling us."

"What makes you think even he knows?"

"He has to know! Or at least somebody's gotta know something!" Dean shouted, his anger snapping back as his frustration only grew. He had had it, had reached rock bottom of his patience and was now tired of all the crap that was being thrown. Castiel was suffering, but Dean was as well, and that was one thing that he refused to mention to any of them until and _if_ he had to. Dean started biting down on his top lip before he spoke again, trying to calm himself before he said something stupid. He had already done enough of that, and the last thing he needed was getting ass-reamed for not using his head. "I just don't know what to do anymore Bobby." He was desperate now, concerned and confused, and for the first time in a long time, Dean didn't know where to turn. "I just want someone to tell me what to do."

Bobby just stood there silently, unable to give the hunter what he so desperately wanted before. Instead he reached out for the bowl and took it into his hands, giving Dean a look as if to tell him that he was sorry before he headed back upstairs.

Sam had been listening to the conversation from behind the wall, hearing Dean's plea and feeing his stomach start to twist. Sam felt so stupid at that moment, a liar and a thief and a hypocrite. Dean just wanted one thing at that moment and wasn't aware that the person closest to him could actually give it to him. Sam simply bit his own lip as he listened to Dean pace, before he whispered out a sigh and walked away.

…

Sam found him still in the kitchen just a couple hours later, sitting at the table with one of Bobby's books in front of him and looking at the words with deep concentration and finesse. He was fraught, determined to get what he so desperately wanted, and Sam decided at that moment to confront him about another issue entirely. He walked up to him slowly, waiting for Dean to see him in his peripheral vision before he started to talk. Dean was already pretty sure that he knew what it was about, but decided that he should hear Sam out anyway, just for the hell of it.

"He's been asking for you," Sam started, the lump that had formed in the back of his throat disappearing at that moment as he continued. Dean pretended not to be listening, wanted nothing more to say than _Not now Sam_, but he knew his brother more than anyone, and carried on with his conversation. (More like interrogation) "Claire and Bobby are with him now. Bobby's gonna, put him out for a few hours, hopefully so he can get some sleep."

Dean kept pretending to ignore him, turning the page and acting like he was actually reading something from the text. Sam felt his jaw clenching in annoyance, but pressed on and continued speaking.

"Dean Cas has been asking for you for the past two days and you've refused to see him." Sam's voice was more agile this time, controlled, firm, and not the least bit guilty or sympathetic towards him. Sam wasn't liking Dean's behavior, and made sure to let him know it. "What's going on with you?"

Dean finally gave up and slammed a hand on the table, closing the book and looking up to stare at Sam. Whatever he wanted to say went completely blank at that moment, seeing his pensive expression and seeing that Sam was simply just worried for him. They all were. Even Claire had started to notice his change in behavior and wished to do something about it. None of them did however, not with more pressing matters, and it was Sam who finally decided to take the initiative and speak up. Only he didn't expect to hear what Dean had to say. "I can't do this anymore Sam."

Dean didn't even look at him, looking so lost in his train of thought it's like he wasn't even there. Sam felt the lump in his throat returning, and simply chose to swallow it down so that it wouldn't get in the way of telling him what he wanted to say.

"What are you talking about?"

"I mean I just can't deal with this. _Here_." Dean finally turned his head to stare at him, his eyes giving away everything that he hid and Sam his answer to some of his own questions. His heart was racing at that moment, his stomach dropping, and he couldn't figure out for the life of him what to say next. So he simply let it be, and didn't say anything at all. "Every time Cas is sick, or he passes out, or he's so bad that we have to admit him, I can't _deal_ with it anymore. I need to know what the hell is going on, and I need to know now."

Sam felt his stomach flip, and asked a question instead of giving him the answer he had been seeking now for weeks. Sam felt really low at that point. "Well what do you plan to do?"

"I don't know," _And damn did he look like he didn't_. It's not like it was enough to stop him though. "But I'm gonna figure it out." Dean quickly got up from the table and grabbed a piece of paper that lay beneath his arm, passing his brother as he headed out to the door and to the yard. There was only one thing that could possibly give him any answers, and he was going to summon it, whether they wanted to show up or not.

* * *

><p>Dean had taken a few minutes before actually attempting something that he thought may either be productive or just downright stupid. But he was desperate, and he had to keep telling himself that this wasn't for him, but all of it for Cas.<p>

Something was draining him, depleting him of his energy and nobody could seem to pinpoint what. He had been tested for pretty much everything; viruses, bacterial infections and even cancer, but all of it came back negative. This was something supernatural, nothing a freaking' hospital could diagnose and only a supernatural being actually could. Dean was distressed, had been for some time, and decided that now was the time to finally get some form of a reprieve.

He called upon an angel, any angel at this point as long as it wasn't some dick, and started to recite the spell he had found in order to summon one. The scripture was only a few seconds, simple really, but Dean got no answer in return as he finished and waited for someone to pop in. He simply waited and waited, praying that someone would answer the call and give him the answers he so desperately wanted, and frankly deserved. After several minutes he just got nothing, so instead of asking, he started demanding that someone come and answer his questions. Nicely of course.

"Come on! I could use some help here."

The wind shifted just behind him, and he turned around to find a tall, elfish looking female angel standing right behind him, jade green eyes staring straight at him and honey brown hair reaching to her back and just passed her elbows, her arms crossed over her chest. "Well, well, well, look who's finally started to care for once." She chided, her expression not the least bit amusing, but not cynical either. "Dean Winchester I presume."

"Yeah," Dean took a step back, but only to get a better look at his possible foe. Nothing else. "And who might you be? Angel I presume."

"Josephine," she replied simply, a small smile tugging at her lips as she did the same in return, sizing him up and seeing who exactly she was dealing with. Never would she have guessed that this was the Righteous Man, but then again she had gotten more than her share of surprises in her lifetime, and decided to just let it slide. "Is there a reason you summoned me?"

"Great. So this spell does work," he sighed, folding up the paper and putting it in his front pocket as she simply chuckled at him and his lack of patience.

"Oh yeah it works. But only if you say it right which you didn't, by the way." She smiled again, walking up to him until she was only but a few inches apart from him. He felt incredibly uncomfortable at that moment, but noticed that she was merely just staring at him, much like Cas used to do when they first met, and he had to clear his throat before he stepped back and stared her down right back. She simply watched him, noticed how he fidgeted just a little at her and her presence, and decided that enough time had been wasted and that it was time to just get on with it. "Well since you're here,"

"Before you ask anything, I just wanted you to know that I answered your call as a favor to you, not an obligation, and only because I didn't think anyone else would." She grinned, making him feel even more stupid at the fact that he mispronounced a few words in a measly spell. "I just so happened to be around, so do yourself a favor and get on with what you want to ask me before I change my mind and leave."

_Well wasn't she just a ray of sunshine_.

"Right," Dean answered quickly and cleared his throat again, taking just half a step forward before finally locking eyes with hers. He didn't know where to begin really, there were just so many questions, but decided that the most important one to ask was the one he wanted the answer too most of all. He only prayed that she actually knew it. "What's going on with Cas? Why does his body keep deteriorating like it is? Why is he always getting sick?" Okay so three questions. If Dean didn't know any better, he would think that she looked annoyed, almost furious, but refused to back down until she gave him what he wanted. "Well? Are you gonna tell me or are we just gonna keep standing here staring at each other?"

"You poor impudent sap." She said, shaking her head lightly as she leaned against the pile of cars behind her, using them to brace her small weight. She simply wanted to insult him, as if the answer to his question was pointless and simply just obvious. He should have been able to figure this out already, but as always, Dean always tended to look at things without actually seeing them. She simply closed her eyes and scowled, opening them back up to stare at him in disappointment. Again, her arms found themselves crossed over her chest, her eyes now piercing straight through his as she contemplated whether she should tell him what she knew or thought. The sad look in his eyes only had her feeling sorry, and she decided to catch him a break just this once. Though she really didn't think he deserved it. "The souls left their mark on Castiel. They've stained him. _Damaged _hissoul beyond repair; it's like a cancer."

Dean felt his chest tighten, her words drilling through him like a red hot poker and shredding it to pieces. What she let slip next only made it feel more empty than he ever thought possible.

"I told your brother all of this weeks ago. I honestly don't know why you keep asking." Dean's face dropped before it furrowed back up, looking at her as if to ask if she was lying. She noticed this, and a thought suddenly crossed her mind that she may have just told him something that he never expected to hear. She actually felt bad now, and avoided his gaze for a second before asking her own question now, her voice barely above a whisper. "He never told you. Did he?"

Dean felt like blowing up, his breath caught in this throat as he took in what had just been revealed to him. Sam knew. Had the whole time, and had never once tried to tell Dean. Never even cared to. After all the time he pleaded for an answer. The one person he was closest too held something from him like that, and Dean found himself growing enraged. "Sam knows? He's known this whole damn time?"

Josephine simply nodded, her lips slightly parted and scared looking as she took in the expression of the hunter. He was pissed, upset, but above all betrayed, and it was by the one person he never actually expected it to come from. Then again, it hadn't been the first time, there had been plenty others, but honestly he thought that he and his brother had been past that. Were through with keeping secrets, but again life just didn't care, and decided that Dean still needed crap thrown his way just for the hell of it. He stopped his pacing, his eyes wanting to burn holes into the ground as his brain continued to spin around the idea that Sam had kept this from him. Dean was pissed, wanted nothing more than to find him and knock his ass out, and he may just have done that if he were standing right there in front of him. Her first words started taking over that however, and he promptly stopped and took a breath before staring back at her, his rage now being surpassed by his fear.

"Are you saying, that Cas can die from this?"

Josephine stayed silent for a moment, her own sad look still clear on her face before telling him what she was sure he was dreading to hear. "I'm saying that he will." Her voice was small, guilt like, but it was honest, and Dean found himself almost feeling crushed at her words. "I'm sorry Dean," And truth be told she actually sounded and looked like she was. "But nobody does something like that and walks away clean. I really am sorry."

Dean simply stared at her, before she disappeared and left him to stand there on his own, in every way imaginable.

…

He just started walking, trying to calm himself before he went back to confront Sam, but no matter how much time he took he couldn't look away. Couldn't take it back. Couldn't ignore the fact. Sam had lied to him, had lied to everyone, and it seemed that no matter how many times the two of them had each other's backs, they always found some stupid way to stab it and ruin everything. Dean was hurt, and decided that enough was enough. Sam would hear what he had to say, and he would hear it _all_.

* * *

><p>Josephine remained within sight, just outside the view of the house as she gracefully sat down on one of the yards many stacks of rusted cars and broken glass. She was waiting for someone who had been out of the game for a while, but had found himself suddenly pushed back into it. She heard his presence soon enough, as a flap of wings informed her of his arrival and had him seated next to her.<p>

Both said nothing, not for a while, but finally she chose to speak up and voice her concerns to him. This had gone farther than either of them anticipated, and it was only bound to get worse. "This isn't the souls. Not anymore." She whispered, her hands rubbing together in front of her as she bounced them on her knees. She was nervous, a human sensation she very much despised, and found herself hating the fact that she looked so weak in front of her mentor. "This is something else entirely. Something that's draining him and I don't know what." She turned to look back at him, his own eyes not meeting hers as he looked back towards the house that held their brother. He was worried, just as much as she was, and it was only now that he decided to start getting involved. His hand had been forced, and now he had no choice but to intervene. "What do we do?"

Again she sounded desperate, pleading, praying to their Father that the archangel beside her had the answer that only He could provide. She was anxious, and wanted nothing more than to be assured that something could be done. He didn't answer her prayer.

"I don't know."

Her face dropped, her eyes turning to stare at the ground before they moved to stare at the house as well. They had no answers, other than to trust in faith and hopefully let it guide them. What other choice did they have right now, except for that.

"Gabriel… What _can_ we do?"

He said nothing, simply let his head fall before staring back in front of him, the grip he had on the car leaving indents as he mouthed the words he so desperately wanted to disappear. There was nothing else to say though, but the truth. "I don't know Josie. I really don't know."

Both simply sat there, wondering, if there was anything, that could be done next.

**To Be Continued…**

**Authors End Note:** This would have been out yesterday but I got home from work and all the sleepless nights finally caught up with me. So I slept for 17 hours straight. I'm pretty sure the word count makes up for that though. Anyways, I figured it was about time to drop the ball with Sam's secret and all, and bring in a certain archangel into the mix. Get ready for the shit to start flying in the next chapter with our other character, who I have to admit I have fallen in love with too, even if he is a slimy, two faced, trading, back stabbing son of *ahem*. Sorry about that, you'll find out who. Reviews make me happy so please take some time to give one. Every one of them helps and is appreciated greatly. Thanks again for stopping by. Now off to read all my messages. I've got way too many to go through but there's one in particular that has been mocking me for days now and will not leave me be from all the excitement lol. XD


	14. Chapter 14

**Authors Note:** Sorry for the delay but my goal here was to get a new chapter out every other day and since I brought out seven in seven days, I pretty much thought that I gave myself two extra weeks to deadline for the next one, not that I wanted to wait that long either. That and my work schedule has official gone bonkers and has me going in at all hours of the day and night instead of 6:30am-2:30am as usual. Ugh. It's a real bitch for the muse, especially when she keeps pestering me to write when _she_ wants to. (No I'm not crazy, she actually does have control over my brain; pestering little prick) Anyways…on a side note, I'm pretty sure I already mentioned this fact but just to repeat and assure, this story will have a happy ending when it's over. I know I'm putting Cas through a lot of crap, and even more will be given here when Dean finally sees what Cas has been hiding, but he will ultimately live in the end. Even _if_ he does technically die. I'm not trying to scare anyone here I promise, it's just that my muse was not in the best of moods when this started (again, it's all her fault) but I decided to hell with the end originally planned and decided to change it up. I hope it works for you guys. *muse starts nagging about the unauthorized change* SHUT UP YOU STUPID *bleep*! Sorry about that. Onto the story now. And yes, I sometimes do need to entertain myself here lol.

**Written:** 26 September

**Soundtrack:** Illuminated by Hurts

**Word Count:** 3500+

"_For nothing is secret, that shall not be made manifest; neither anything hid, that shall not be known and come abroad."_

Luke 8:17 – The Bible

**Chapter 14**

Dean didn't know what to say at the moment. His instinct at first of course was to start screaming, hollering 'what the hell's and shouting curses at Sam for keeping yet _another_ secret from him (_shocker_), but seriously, how could Dean not have seen _that_ one coming? Sam always was a dick in that sense. Just when everything seemed to be go well between the two of them (compared to their earlier years when he went to college and ditched the family), even when their relationship had its trials and tribulations, it was either one or the other that managed to screw it up.

Usually it was Dean, but Sam had had a few doozies himself, jump starting Armageddon was obviously one (though Dean had had a hand in that obviously with breaking the _first_ seal), trusting a demon over him (well two actually, and one being said demon who helped him jumpstart the apocalypse by breaking the _last_ seal and releasing the _Devil_), convincing Dean to let him jump in the Cage so they could save the planet (it was his idea but still Dean went with his brothers decision, even though it was _royally_ stupid), so on and so forth, but still the two of them prevailed over it all. But this, _this_ had now become a _Hell_ of a lot more personal, and Dean wanted to know why the _fuck_ Sam hadn't told him what was going on with Cas, when he had been desperately looking for answers for what seemed like ever now. Sam had known, probably the whole fucking time, but had let his anger and arrogance get in the way and thus enabled him to make the decision and not tell a soul about it. To make them suffer, though to be honest he didn't actually know that it would make Dean suffer like it did. Like it _still_ was.

Guess he never saw that one in the cards. Though in that sense, Dean could understand since he usually did the same. Still, he thought it _fucked_ up on his end.

Dean took as much time as his patience allowed to walk around the yard, hoping to God that it was enough to calm him down and at least give him a little bit of control for when he finally confronted Sam. After what seemed like the hundredth lap around the yard (he could have probably gone on to do a hundred more) he finally made his way back to the house, his heavy steps echoing against the hardwood floors as he made his way over to the kitchen. He was hoping to just grab a beer, relax a little bit more and then release all his troubles on his unsuspecting little brother and then that would be the end of it. Only it didn't exactly go like that, not when he stepped foot into the kitchen and found his brother sitting right there at the table.

Whatever walls Dean had built to keep himself steady and in check, pretty much crumbled at that moment.

Sam just looked up from where he was sitting with the book Dean had earlier, and knew from the second he laid eyes on Dean, that he was in _trouble_.

Sam wanted to leave, to just get up and pretend that he had somewhere to be or something to do, anything just to get the hell out of there. But Dean didn't even give him the chance before he approached him and blocked his way, preventing Sam from getting up. Sam was sure of it now. He was such a goner, and it only caused a knot to form in his throat as he mentally prepared himself.

"We need to talk."

That was four words you _never_ wanted to hear come out of Dean's mouth. _Ever_.

"Sure." Sam nervously shifted himself back in his seat, knowing that he had more than likely just given himself away and just flopped down the rest of the way. He was gonna get it, it was _more_ than obvious, and Sam was really not looking forward to what he knew was going to be a massive verbal _beat_ down. He started preparing himself, trying to decide what he would say in his defense and sadly was coming up empty. He had so much to say, but it didn't matter anyway. Sam knew that what he did was wrong, and would have to pay the consequences eventually. It might as well just be now. He might as well just get it over with. "What'd you want to talk about?"

Sam didn't even try to hide his guilt. He knew what this was about. Looked almost like he had been expecting it for a while, and this only served to piss off Dean even more.

"What do I want to talk about?" Dean started, sounding almost sarcastic as he tried bitterly to hide his anger. He wasn't doing a very good job of it, and after a moment's hesitation realized that he wasn't even going to try. He was _pissed_, and unfortunately Sam would be the one to get all the crap now heading his way. "How about this Sam." Dean pulled out the chair opposite him and took a seat, folding his hands firmly on the table and locking eyes with his. Sam kept shifting, either staring at the floor or at the book, trying to avoid his gaze as much as possible until Dean promptly shut the book closed and threw it across the kitchen floor. _He knew Bobby wouldn't appreciate that, you never ever abused the man's books, but thought the hell with that right now_. _He had bigger shit to deal with_. "How about we start with, you've been keeping secrets. And I wanna know _why_."

Sam just bit the inside of his cheek, wondering how the hell he was gonna get out of this one, if there even was a way to get out. Dean was obviously fuming, both hurt and humiliated at the fact that Sam had deceived him again and he had let it slide. Dean always blamed himself, always thought that he had somehow slipped in some situation for Sam to insist on keeping things from him. Dean always found fault in himself, but this time it was all on Sam, every last bit of it, and Dean really didn't know where to start at this point.

"Dean I─"

"You knew?" He cut off, looking more disappointed than angry all of a sudden. "You knew and you didn't fucking tell me?"

"Dean."

"You had no right to keep that from me Sam." The younger hunter only sighed as he listened to his brother start to fight with himself, trying to figure out where he'd gone wrong. Sam was starting to feel if not more guilty, knowing that his brother was starting to see it that way too. "I thought we were passed this. I thought we were _passed_ keeping secrets."

"We are!"

"Then why the hell did you keep this from me? !"

"Dean I─"

"Don't 'Dean' me."

"Will you let me get a word in?"

"NO!"

Sam just slammed his hand on the table and looked away, shifting his body sideways until his back was pressed against the wall and his head lay back on the windowsill behind him. Sam was frustrated, not because Dean was upset but because he had pulled yet another stupid stunt and it was his brother that was taking the brunt, _again_. Dean had gone through enough, more than his share in their lifetime, and here he was just giving him more to deal with. Sam felt like an idiot, wanting to apologize but not being able to when he couldn't seem to find the words to actually say it. To even begin. Dean was furious. Angry. And disappointed. Not only in Sam but also in himself, and that was just enough for Sam to finally find something to say. It wouldn't be enough, but at least he could try to explain himself.

"I was angry Dean." Sam started, slamming his hand softly against the edge of the table as he tried to get out what he wanted to say. Only Dean interrupted him again.

"Angry about what Sam? For Cas breaking down your wall? I thought you were over that." Even though technically Dean still wasn't. How hypocritical of him.

"I am."

"Then why the hell would you keep this from me? Why would you lie to me Sam?"

"I didn't want to lie you." Sam replied, his voice heightening and getting louder with every word coming out of his mouth.

"You obviously intended to because you did!"

Sam bit down on his lip again, seeing that it was going to be like talking to a brick wall this time and he was not looking forward to it. Enough silence passed between them for Sam to hear something that he never expected to. Least of all what he did. It felt almost like taking a bullet.

"You should of came to me Sam." Dean said softly, looking as sincere as he possibly could. "I thought you trusted me more than that."

That right there made Sam stop, and wonder what it was that was going through Dean's mind right now. He never expected this turn, not like this, and couldn't help but try and understand why Dean felt like he was the one responsible for the rift that was occurring between them. It was Sam who had made the mistake. Who had lied to Dean and kept everyone in the dark while Castiel suffered. While he went through the aches and the pains and the torment, he had never come to realize that Dean was going through the same. Knowing that he had no answers and searching desperately for them in which he got no reply. Sam was furious, but now instead of it being with Cas or with Dean, it was at him. He had made a mistake. It was obvious now. Sam had to make amends, and he had to figure out just how to do that. Only he didn't know where to begin, and started to pray that he could get a little help to point him in the direction.

_God was out of the question though. It didn't take a genius to figure that._

"I'm sorry Dean." Sam turned back over towards him, his back hunched over and hands pressed firmly between his knees as he tried to pick apart the jumbled mess currently bouncing around in his head. He had made a mistake, and he would have to pay for it. And it looked like the price would be his brothers trust. "I was angry. Not just with him but with myself." He started, sounding so small and ashamed that it was almost pathetic, but he continued anyway and he begged for some small form of forgiveness. Even for that amount, he would have to earn it. "I was angry because he broke the wall. Because he had me remember, _everything_ from Hell, even though those memories are technically my fault since I made the decision to jump in. Still," Sam paused, wondering if she even continue with his confession, when he in turn didn't even know if he could believe it himself. "Everything I did, that entire year I was soulless. He made me remember it all and I didn't want to."

Dean understood that. He still felt a little angry himself, still feeling that fire in the pit of his belly that still wanted to find Cas on a good day and ruin it for him, by bitching him out and letting him know all the things that had pissed Dean off. Only now that anger was fueled by something else, and was now directed at _someone_ else, and he never thought it would be towards his brother. Not this time.

Only he been proven wrong again. Life _always_ proved him wrong.

Dean stopped, looking away from Sam as he clenched his jaw and tried to think. He wanted to kick his ass, just jump across the table and start beating the ever living crap out of him, but now was just not the time for petty fights like that. Sam would get his beat down, slowly but surely he would have it coming to him eventually, but for that moment Dean just decided that it would have to wait and focused instead on the words he wanted to say. They would hurt, but at this point in his life, Dean wanted him to feel a little of what he did. He was hurting, and it was unlike one he had ever had to experience. Not in a very long time.

"I can't trust you, can I?" Dean finally looked up, a look of hopelessness and abandonment clear in his eyes. Sam almost flinched at it, never having seen Dean look so vulnerable before, and he found that he actually hated it. He had screwed up, and Sam knew that there was no repairing it this time. He had broken it, and God only knew if he could put it back together.

"Dean," Sam started, the words fumbling just a bit before he finally managed to let them slip. Only they didn't sound real, or even meaningful when they did. "Of course you can trust me. I'm your brother."

Dean didn't buy it. Didn't feel it, and he made sure to let him know. "Obviously I can't."

His words were barely above a whisper, but in Sam's eyes he might as well just have shouted them.

Dean slowly looked away and got up from the table, turning his back on Sam as he slowly but surely walked away and out the front door. He needed to think. Needed some time. And he just didn't know where to turn right now. He was angry, frustrated, but deep down he was empty. He had no idea if that was even him or if it was something else. But it didn't seem to matter. He was wallowing in it. Melting in his self pity and taking it for granted. He was stuck. No matter what he tried to do he always found himself stuck in the same spot, the same place he had started at. Dean was finished, had had more than enough of his fair share, but it seemed like life just wouldn't loosen its grip. It had taken so much from him, and it looked like it would only go out and take away more.

He didn't know what he'd do when it did. That was the sad part. He knew it wasn't a matter of _if_ anymore, but of when. Always…_when_.

The only sound he could hear was his footsteps passing through the dirt, his brain and legs contemplating whether that other hundred laps would be a good idea right about now. He just kept walking, unsure of whether to scream, or cry or run or stop. He had given up. No matter what he did it just simply wasn't enough, and again he wallowed in it. He just slowly made his way around the yard, passing pile after pile of junk heaps and twisted metal, unknowingly under the watchful eye of a certain archangel who saw him clear as day. Saw right through him and what Dean himself probably didn't even know. Didn't even realize.

Gabriel would stick around, if only to help lead Dean through his way.

* * *

><p>Dean didn't even notice that he had company. His footsteps drowning out all other thoughts and ideas as a certain King of Hell walked by him hand in hand, step by step, miserable pace by miserable pace. It took a second for Dean to realize him, his motor and hunting skills obviously quite slow if took that long to notice.<p>

Crowley looked just about the same as the last time they had seen him, just after they had asked for his help on trapping Death in order to stop Cas from his 'God' trip. Only now he looked different.

He wore the usual black suit and tie, matched with just as dark a dress shirt and tiny handkerchief stuffed neatly in the front pocket. His hands stayed deep in his pockets, the dirt from the ground quickly covering his shoes in dust and his expression was sullen, almost drawn and lacking its usual snarky attitude. Dean couldn't help but notice, Crowley matching every step with his as both men just continued walking. Dean didn't even know what to think, the silence between them feeling almost awkward but too unimportant to even care about. He simply let it go and continued with his pace, his own hands hanging in his pockets and head bent down. He wanted only to look at the ground, forget all his worries and his troubles, and to just simply find some peace.

Little did he know that Crowley was there to do just that, though not in the most kindest of gestures, and unfortunately would give Dean the answers he so desperately wanted to find, knowing that he may not want to have them afterwards.

Crowley had seen his fair share of tortures, Hell he had given plenty of them himself over the years, but the one he could see flashing through Dean was one he never thought he'd see. Strangely enough, he actually found himself feeling a little sorry for it too. Not that he would say it.

"There's a reason he's been holding that secret love. Our darling little angel has his reasons."

Crowley sounded small, almost trying to sound supportive and yet gloating, as if letting Dean know that he would be there for him. No matter how weird that sounded. At that moment, Dean just didn't really care. Didn't care to see how weird his world was suddenly becoming at that moment.

"I don't care anymore." Dean whispered, his focus still on his feet as continued passing them through the soft padded dirt. "I just don't care."

"You should. Although to be fair he didn't _exactly_ know."

Dean understood the double meaning of that. Knew that Crowley was referring to Sam, and to Cas, and of all the crap that every one of them was going through. Cas was sick, Dean knew it now but had already felt that Cas didn't exactly know why yet. Sam had betrayed him, took the rug straight from under him and had let him fall flat on his face. And now it seemed that everything was turning against him except for the most unexpected connections, from the most unexpected places, and Dean found himself almost relishing in that.

"But this one he did. And I think it's about time you find out."

Dean didn't even get to ask what Crowley was talking about before he stopped, looking over at the demon who looked tired, gaunt and almost desperate, though he hid it all behind his eyes. Dean just simply looked at him, as if asking what it was that he had to offer and how much exactly it was going to cost him. Crowley simply stared right back, knowing that the last time they had seen each other was supposed to be the last, that they had urged him to never return and that they in turn would do the same. For both parties to simply stay away from each other and never interfere in each other's lives again. Something had obviously changed in that, if Crowley's presence wasn't already a clue.

Dean just sounded so empty, so tired of it all, and prayed so desperately to God at that moment that he would finally get his reprieve. Dean was exhausted, and all he wanted was just for a way out. "What are you talking about Crowley? How exactly can you help me?" _And curse him for sounding so hopeless_.

Crowley simply stared back at him, watching the hunter mentally falling apart at the seams, his walls crumbling, his spirit aching. Dean was now becoming just a shell, and Crowley almost feared that he would be the one to finally break him. It didn't matter though. Dean just had to know, had to see exactly what it was that he was missing, even if it would only cause him more pain in the end after all was said and done. Crowley had seen more than his fair share of torture, but this one just seemed too cruel to allow to continue. "It's time you see what your angel's been hiding."

Crowley took a step forward and followed, placing a hand on Dean's shoulder before it all went black in front of him, and Dean found himself standing right where he had been just a year ago. Back in the lab, and back to his Hell. He simply stared back at Crowley, who looked almost like he was regretting what he was about to do. It was unnerving to say the least, and it only had them both looking anything but ready for it.

"It's time you know the truth Dean," Crowley saw right through his soul, and knew that _this_…wasn't going to be easy. "It's time you know his story."

Dean just continued staring, watching, wondering when it would all just go away, but for once, it looked like life may just have finally, _finally_, given him a break.

_How wrong he would be…_

**To Be Continued…**

**Authors End Note:** Opinions on last episode. Uh, yeah. Cas has melted apparently (shittiest exit I've ever seen by the way), there was absolutely NO mourning of him being gone, Bobby said something nice though about him being Dean's best friend (which makes me love the old man more than anyone else right now), they burn down Bobby's house (WHAT THE actual F*CK!) and I was just _lost_. Yeah…I think I'm just going to stick to the fandom here and stop with season 7 already. It just doesn't hold my attention anymore. :/ I'm sorry Supernatural, but it was nice knowing you. :( You have put me in an angsty mood, and just to warn you all it has bled _deeply_ into the next chapter too. As well as the one after that. Reviews are love, especially when depression has obviously crept its way through. *goes off to live in season 5 now*


	15. Chapter 15

**Authors Note:** And I'm back (yes for those wondering I am still alive lol)! Sorry for the extended leave of absence. Not my intention I swear. Okay, so my friend Capitano here e-mailed me after seeing my last note about the second episode and put season 7 in a new perspective for me, which frankly had me laughing at how much it actually made sense. "Don't give up on season seven, because it can't get any worse." That really had me thinking it over and she was right. Even if Cas isn't there anymore (which still so totally blows in my opinion :/) at least we can still have him here in our stories and that will have to do for now until we see him again, soon I hope. I still don't think he's dead, even though Gamble said in a recent interview that he was, but not until I see charcoaled wings on the ground will I remain completely unconvinced damn it (can't you tell I'm still in denial). Plus I've got my theories since the second episode did hint a couple of things that I quickly caught, and I just think that we'll get to see him again hopefully near the middle or end of the season. Even if that isn't the case, I still want to hang onto my hope just like so many of us here. Also, I know Bobby's house has been burned down now (another thing that still boggles my mind), but it will remain in my story here since I consider it to be a huge element just like so many other things. Heck, it could be its own character if I want it to be, just like Cas' trench coat (though technically it's an overcoat as he so valiantly mentioned lol). Anyways, enough babble here and onto the chapter now. Also, if you try and picture the Hell I have set up here in Cas' memory scenes, go see the movie "Constantine" and you'll get a pretty good idea of what I see. It's not exact but it's close enough. Enjoy.

**Written:** 28 September

**Warning: **Mentions of torture

**Soundtrack:** Where Do We Draw the Line by Poets of the Fall

**Word Count:** 8000

"_The spirit of a man will sustain his infirmity; but a wounded spirit who can bear?"_

Proverbs 18:14 – The Bible

**Chapter 15**

Dean didn't even know where to begin. The images suddenly flashing before him were just one jumbled mess and it was only he and Crowley who were completely still in the middle of it all. He watched as Cas, past Cas, recited the spell to open the door to Purgatory, using the notes he had stolen from Bobby. He could only do but watch, as the souls reached out to him and collected themselves inside the vessel, along with the monsters of the past, unfortunately and unknowingly.

This is where he came in touch with his downfall, Dean thought.

Everything was so bright, but Dean could have sworn that at the very last second Cas looked almost scared, unsure if what he was doing was right, and it showed, all through his drawn and tired features. Dean saw right through him, saw that his friend was now questioning his choices, but it was too late to reconsider when the millions upon millions of souls finally sealed themselves within, and permanently became a part of the angel, now turned God. He disappeared, a sinister smile on his face as he went off to finally destroy Raphael, and Dean felt his stomach drop. Little did he know that he would only end up feeling worse, when Crowley took the few steps towards the seal and pressed two fingers to it. Dean watched as cracks started to appear, opening the wall once again and Crowley walked through, disappearing in a flash of Heavenly light. Dean hesitantly followed, feeling the warmth but also the dread of it all as he passed through, the floor and sky above him changing from the bricked surroundings of the warehouse to a Hell hole of fire, winds and ash. It was burning, harsh, crackling, and Dean almost felt like he was back in the Pit. Only this fire seemed more harsh, and coming from a different source than that of evil. It felt more…_powerful_, than menacing.

He took his eyes away from the sky above and back down to Crowley, who simply stared down at him, hands back in his pockets and looking at Dean as if to ask him if he was ready. He would never be ready, not really, but this was the only opportunity he had to give it to him, to let him see, and Crowley would let him have it. _Funny how it was the demon that caused it all, that would be the one to show him the way to what he most wanted, and to what he most feared._

Dean merely looked around at their surroundings, and immediately had to ask exactly where it was they were. This didn't seem like Hell. Close to it, but still not enough, at least not the one that Dean knew. The Pit that he remembered. This one seemed more personal, more envisioned, more concentrated, and it almost looked like watching a building burn from the inside out. It was suffocating and claustrophobic, and Dean found himself getting, well, scared, but so many other things entirely as well. It was simply, uncomfortable. "What is this?"

"Castiel's worst nightmare." Crowley answered simply, looking out towards the wheat fields that burned around them, the fiery rope tornados that shot through the sky, the ash that rained on the ground. It was simply a manifestation, a memory, but a real one at that. So very real. "Come along shall we?"

Crowley remained quiet as he walked, following the dirt path that cut between the fields and led them seemingly to simple open land. Dean followed, wondering what it was he was bound to see and found his panic rising with every step he took. The demon in front of him said nothing, his steps sounding more tired and restless as he continued. Dean was now on edge, wondering what it could be that had Crowley, the _King of Hell_ to feel so tense, so withdrawn. The hunter knew it the moment he felt it, the shift of the air growing thicker, almost impossible to breathe in, that what was bound to happen couldn't be good. Crowley was obviously not looking forward to it, which only had Dean wanting to tuck tail and run. Crowley must have felt his unease, as he turned around to look at Dean, who stopped dead in his tracks at the look of emptiness and calm, shadowed by fear in the demons eyes. Crowley's face was blank, stern, but still hid so much behind it, and Dean didn't even know where to start with that.

"Tell me Dean. Did Pastor Jim ever tell you the story, of Legion?"

Dean nearly tilted his head at that second, something he knew Cas always did when he was confused but hadn't done in such a _long_ time. Too long he thought, and he actually found himself missing it. That stupid, annoying little head tilt. It was as much Cas as his trench coat once was, only _that_ Cas didn't exist anymore. He had disappeared. Withered. Under all the power of the souls he had consumed and soon under his God like status, it had all disappeared. Like a leaf blowing in the wind, he had been lost to them, only to be brought back once again, back to them, as nothing but a shell.

Dean felt himself swallowing, his throat cutting off as he recalled those memories. Of the nights he would stay awake and pray, pray to God that Cas would be brought back. That God would give him another chance to change things. To correct it. To give Dean back what he most desperately wanted. His best friend. His angel. His brother. It was all Dean had wanted, for months, to just have Castiel back. With them. For him.

Dean didn't even realize that he was spacing, not until Crowley was standing mere inches from his face and staring, as if trying to decipher what exactly was going on in that head of his. He didn't even need to know, his thoughts very much clued into exactly what and _who_ the hunter was currently thinking of. It didn't take a genius, just a friend, someone who knew them well, to figure out that he was thinking about his angel, their comrade, their ally, their fallen brethren. Strange how Crowley was starting to think along those lines at that moment, and quickly pushed that thought aside to be trampled and spit out later. He was still a demon damn it, and wings or not, Castiel was still an angel in his eyes, even if he technically didn't sport the halo anymore.

"Well are you just gonna stand there or are you gonna do me a favor and answer the question?"

Dean just glared, unsure of whether to trust this filth or lead him on his way, but in the end Dean caved, his need to know pulling too much of his will to care about such petty things at that moment.

"Enlighten me." He said simply, the story of legend too far behind in his memories to care about right now, and frankly, too faded to even grasp. Crowley merely gave him a shrug, and continued walking forward as he started speaking.

"The story goes, that a demon named 'Legion' once roamed the earth about two millennia ago, during the age of _Christ_." Dean couldn't help but pick up the small hint of sarcasm at the end of that sentence, but chose to ignore it as Crowley continued. "Anyways, the story goes that Jesus walked into town and ended up hearing about the demon, traveled to the catacombs and found him, only to discover that this…seemingly harmless looking, leprosy of a man was not just some ordinary demon." Dean was instantly reminded through those last words, of how Cas had started to rot away from the weight of the souls. How his skin had welted, melting; the Horseman of Death had even gone as far as call him a 'mutated angel'. Dean never wanted to see that again in his life. _Not ever_. "He was far greater than that though, more intricate, and more evil than anything you've ever laid eyes on. And I know that you personally have seen your fair share. To be frank, it would have taken more than just a few magical spells like in our day and age to rid the world of that monstrosity. It would take─"

"The power of God." Dean finished, starting to recall bits and pieces of the legend from his early Bible studies as he listened.

"Precisely." Crowley answered, continuing his walk as they reached further and further down the hill of fiery abyss, where the flames started growing taller and more dry, reaching out towards the skies only to burn into the feathery clouds. "The legend claims that Jesus wound up casting all the evils within that demon into pigs, where they ended up slaughtering each other and eventually, ridding the demon altogether." Dean heard him pause, and waited for what he was sure was an inevitable 'but'. "That's not where the story ends however." _Figures_. "Yes unfortunately, there is _always_ a catch. You see, Legion isn't just _any_ demon." Crowley stopped, quickly pulling his sight away from his feet and staring back at Dean, eyes filled with a heated resolve, his hands now balled into fists deep in his pockets still. "Legion, as your book calls him…is '_the_' demon. The worst of the worst. And your little Castiel, unleashed him upon the world."

Crowley just started walking again, as if he hadn't just dropped a _colossal_ bomb at his feet.

That actually got Dean's blood to start boiling.

"Woah, woah, woah, wait a minute." Dean stopped him, refusing to hear Crowley accuse Castiel of something so untrue, when to his knowledge, if Crowley wasn't pulling one on him of course, had never come to pass. Yes, Castiel had unleashed a great evil when he tore into Purgatory, but this _Legion_ wasn't it. At least, not that Dean recalled. "Cas never released this 'Legion' guy. He got possessed by the leviathan. Totally different thing!"

"That's what you think."

Those words now had Dean freezing, as Crowley's own steps came to a halt yet again, several feet apart from the hunter. Dean watched him, carefully, and judging by his posture, immediately knew that Crowley, _wasn't_ lying. Furthermore, he wasn't joking, and if the hunter didn't know any better, he would have thought the King of Hell was actually…_afraid_? This made Dean almost shiver, as he continued to stare absentmindedly at Crowley, who looked just as blank as he did.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Dean almost growled, though he wasn't exactly sure where his anger was actually coming from, or who it was directed to. He was too confused at the moment, felt too ashamed, and in all honestly, too damn scared to find out.

"You think the _leviathan_, was the only great evil your little Cassie found down in Purgatory? There are others, _seven_ in fact. And you've already become familiar with two of them." Crowley found his throat actually tightening as he glared back at the hunter, face steeled and thick as he tried to hold back his uneasiness. "You know them as the Leviathan and Lucifer, but Legion also consisted of five other demons and monsters that you don't ever want to see. And believe me when I tell you this, neither the _devil_ nor these…_giant scale filled sushi bars_, were the worst. They're just the appetizers in the meal my dear boy. And trust me, you don't want to see the main course."

Crowley started walking again, leaving Dean with a pit in his stomach as he hesitantly followed the kings words. Worse than leviathan? Than the _Devil_? Could this 'Legion' be worse than anything, even Hell itself? Dean tried understanding all this, every word that was being told to him and didn't even know where to begin. He tried recalling the story, the passage he was more than certain was shared to him as a child, and after some digging came to one phrase in particular that he could recall. It wasn't much, but it was than enough to make his skin bump and crawl, a shiver running cold down his spine, despite the crippling heat that surrounded them both.

_My name is Legion, for we are…many_.

"Wait a second." Dean stopped, effectively getting Crowley to do so as well and turn around, his hands still buried deep in his pockets, the lines around his eyes growing more tense. "Are you telling me, that this 'Legion' guy, the source of all freakin' evil…is _real_?"

Crowley didn't even give him a second to process that. The hunter had met the devil. Why not let him in on a secret about one more baddy that God had to put away. "He's as real as you're ever going to get boy. And I don't think that I need to tell you." Crowley paused, almost swallowing as he mouthed his next words. "He is not someone you want, _ever_, walking anywhere besides the deep, dark, musty hole he's been buried in. If there were ever a time that bastard managed to find a way out and step foot onto our planes…we're all done for."

Again, Dean didn't even need to see that Crowley wasn't joking, and moved another step further, steeling himself for his next words. "Yeah well, if there _was_ something that bad to ever exist, Cas would never have let it out just so he could crush one stupid angel. To win a war that was bound to finish one way or another. Besides," Dean almost felt himself choking at these next words, but they were the only conclusion he could come up with to put him at ease. "If Cas did do something like that, don't you think somebody would have stepped in and stopped him?"

"Someone did."

Dean's eyes nearly shot, his stance going rigid at Crowley's subtle and absent reply and appearance. His posture had changed, from stiff and calculated to almost slumping, like he was about to release the most devastating news that could ever be dropped, and Dean found himself actually growing scared.

"What do you mean, _someone_ did?"

"Well, more like '_some ones'_." He corrected, his feet slightly shifting in the dirt as his urge to pace was quickly trumped for his need to confess. It wouldn't be easy, not by a mile, but if Crowley was going to some way earn back what little of their trust he managed to squeeze out, for the sake of his own life, then he had no other choice in the matter. It was do or die time. "I don't need to tell you Dean, that when you mess with God you mess with his angels, and it's _their_ wrath that you get. In honor of His own. Always, in _His_ honor."

Dean held his firm façade, knowing that it would more than likely crumble with Crowley's next choice of words. He had to be careful, and Dean knew it. That rule fell to both of them.

"Now the story in the Bible may be a little off, but the fact of the matter is that you don't _screw_ with God or the angels who defend his name, and unfortunately for little Castiel, when you proclaim yourself a God…you're bound to piss some people off." Crowley stopped for a moment, thinking, deciding if he should continue, and after a few moments decided the Hell with it (bad rep or not), and decided to just finally drop **all** his bombs. "In this case, Castiel got on the bad side of the _four_ Avenging angels, and they don't take their job lightly when it comes to defending the Holy Host, no matter what the cost."

"_Avenging angels_?" Dean said slowly, suddenly finding himself getting nervous, the idea that something so pure could actually be so wrathful. He already knew from personal experience that angels could be dicks, but still, he sometimes found it hard to believe that they could also be so…so, irate…and downright sinister.

"Their names are Azreal, Kushiel, Lahatiel and Shoftiel. Also known as the Angel of _Death_, _Rigid_ one of God, _Flaming_ one of God, and _**Judge**_ of God. You think Michael is the toughest son of a bitch they've got…guess again. Even he has to bend over and take it when it comes to these four being brought together."

Dean was beyond panicked now, every fear he'd ever been exposed to hitting him at that moment and causing him to freeze. How was it possible, that Heaven's _greatest_ weapon, actually had a superior other than God? He was supposed the most loyal, the most powerful, and it looked like he didn't even come close when it came to these so called 'Avengers'. Dean didn't even think it corny, but couldn't help but wonder, just what other weapons Heaven had up its sleeve that they didn't even know about. That the entire universe wasn't even aware of. _Yeah, that was something worth losing sleep over._

"What does that mean?" He asked, his teeth gritted, brow sweating, tears stinging behind his eyes.

"It means, that Castiel pissed the wrong angels off, and he paid dearly for it." Crowley almost looked sorrowful, and sounded just as so. "Didn't you ever wonder why he was so close to death, when you found him?"

In all actuality, Dean tried his hardest _not_ to think about it. He still remembered that day so clearly, how Cas had looked so broken, so damaged and beyond repair, it was nerve wracking to say the very least. There had been so much blood, so little of it actually left in his body, that all three of them were sure that he wouldn't even survive another day. Dean still felt the crimson seep in his skin, coating his fingers as he tried frantically to piece him back together, like a rag doll that had been torn to shreds and needed to be sewn back whole again.

…_There had been so much blood_.

It had been hard seeing, finding where one wound ended and another began, only to be sealed and seemingly replaced by two more behind it. Dean had never seen anything like it, and the thought still frightened him to this day. He had fought so hard to clean up the mess, both the physical and mental capacities of it all, but still found that the matter was still nowhere near over and done with. He himself felt wounded, in every aspect possible, as he carefully dragged cloth after cloth over the torn and battered skin, riddled with gashes and cuts and bruises, poked through by broken bones. Each one soaked up more and more blood, the water used to clean it all quickly matted and replaced by dark red. Dean could remember his hands shaking, his heart beating hard against his chest with every stroke he made, every whimper Cas gave, every piece they tried to put back in place. It was horrifying, and something that Dean personally, never wanted to have to repeat.

In the end, the former angel required more of their help just to get through the night, his body nearly empty of blood by the time they were done, and Dean had still not to this day, ever told him that it had been his own that had sustained him. That _still_ sustained him, even now. _His_ blood, pumping through _his_ veins.

_It felt so much like only yesterday, Dean still feeling the soft drops of rain that had passed over them that night, the moment Dean had finally had the courage to tear himself away for only just a moment, enough to call Bobby and inform him of their situation. He could feel the numbers pressing hard against the keypad of his phone, his fingers numb as he fought to remember exactly what he had planned to say. He found his breath shaking, the air in his lungs hitch as he pressed the device to his ear and waited for an answer, the nerve grating ring on the other end only fogging his concentration. Finally, after what seemed like the ten thousandth ring, the older hunter finally answered, and whatever simple phrases Dean had planned on giving him, had all washed away._

"_We found Cas."_

_Dean didn't even realize how small he sounded, how defeated, and couldn't seem to care at that moment as he fought back, pressed on and hoping that his emotions wouldn't all come pushing through at that moment. He was doing a rather pathetic job at it, he didn't even need to tell himself this, and just allowed all his defenses to fall. To crumble and break apart, as if they were never there in the first place._

"_It's bad Bobby." Dean cried, biting on his lower lip as he felt the emotions building in his chest clenching. He felt guilty, but above all he felt pain, and it unfortunately was one that he could no longer hold back. Dean, never stood a chance. "I messed up. I messed up so bad."_

_Bobby didn't need to hear the sobs and sounds from the other end to know that Dean was breaking. He had already known, had been waiting for it for a while, and frankly, had already prepared himself to handle the situation, even if it would be the hardest he had ever had to grab. Dean was shattered, a ruined soul that had been asked to carry on so much, and unfortunately, had now found himself coming near his end. This was where Dean had to stop and draw the line, only to keep himself from losing it completely. _

"_It's alright son. It's alright, just tell me where you are."_

_Dean's words were barely understandable, but Bobby knew enough to realize that they were actually not that far away, the rumble of the Impala clear in the background, the sound of rain and the surrounding trees that Dean hid behind clear through the speaker. Dean gave him the coordinates, Bobby quickly punching them in his phone and finding the place closer than he previously expected. Dean was cracking, if his voice wasn't already giving that away, and Bobby suddenly felt the responsibility of the young man now on his own shoulders as he fought to keep him together. To keep him from doubling over and giving up. To keep him fighting._

"_It's fine Dean. It's okay." He said softly, trying to ignore the pain bleeding both through him and the man he considered a son. Things had only seemed to get harder, but damn them all to Hell if he had anything more to say about it. To let things only get worse and eventually break them all apart. "Do you want me to meet you there?"_

"_Bobby…I" Dean didn't even know what to say, letting the water run down his face and over his eyes, mixing with the tears he so desperately tried to stop. He just kept biting on his lip, as if that action alone would get him to stop, as impossible as that now seemed._

_Bobby picked up on his distress, and chose not to bother him further. "Okay Dean listen to me. Whatever you and Sam are doing, I need you to stop." Bobby tried his hardest to sound firm, even at the sound of Dean quickly slipping. "Just come here okay. Just bring Cas over, and we'll help him, but I need you, to pull yourself together okay? Don't start breaking down on me. Just bring him here. I'll take care of the rest. Okay?"_

_Dean found himself shaking, his head bobbing up and down furiously as if he was trying to convince him of that fact wholly and truly. He tried making himself stop, his hand quickly squeezing over his eyes as he continued to fight against it. Against himself and all his sorrows. "Okay."_

_Bobby could hear him calming, slowly but surely, but also knew for damn sure that he was nowhere near done with him, and that his guilt would more than likely consume him before he even got a chance to fight it off. This was Dean, a hunter with a lifetime of experience below his belt but also just as long a list of issues, and Bobby knew that it wouldn't be much longer before those too were bound to come to the surface. "Are you sure you're alright?" Bobby knew just what to expect, and wasn't even surprised when he got it._

_Dean just swallowed, his tears finally stopping to fall and façade returning back to the surface where it belonged. "I'm fine I'm just," Dean didn't even know how to finish that sentence, and in the end, just chose not to._

"_It's gonna be alright son. You hear me Dean?" If Bobby had to believe it, he knew that Dean wouldn't have a choice in the matter. Not so long as someone did. "Everything's gonna be okay." He whispered, silently praying to himself and looking up as if to hope to high Heaven that He would be listening. "Everything's gonna be okay. I just need you to keep it together, so we can help Cas."_

_Dean just passed his jacket sleeve over his nose as if to rid himself of all evidence of his breakdown, and chose to instead to believe in the hunters words, as if it were the only thing currently keeping him alive at that moment. "I believe you Bobby," he whispered, steeling a quick glance behind him at the Impala where Sam still stood and Cas was now housed, bleeding profusely in the backseat as he waited. "I believe you. You know I do."_

"_Well then prove it to me and get your butts over here then. The last thing I need is you coming with a corpse, so get to it and head on over here." Bobby remained calm, his voice just as gentle and coaxing as ever as Dean nodded in affirmation and hung up, quickly heading back to the car and making the careful trek back to Bobby's._

Dean hadn't even realized that he had been spacing, the memories of that night playing fresh in his mind as he had recalled them, every one down to the last detail. It was nerve wracking, heart breaking, but also soul steeling, and it only caused an unexplainable power to swell within him. To bleed through his very soul, and shadow over his spirit.

"You okay there darling?"

Dean simply snapped his head to stare back at him, every trace of fear that he had built prior to that suddenly disappearing and being buried. Crowley would have almost been proud, were it not for what he was doomed to show him next. Best to soften him up for the blow first though, he thought, at least as a courtesy.

"So what's the deal with these, _Avenging_ angels?" Dean snarled, his anger now reaching boiling point as he fought to keep all of himself in check. "What were they the top of their class in dickology or what?"

Crowley would have actually found that funny, were it not for their unfortunate circumstances. So instead, he decided to throw Dean's prissiness back with a little humor, and with one not even he expected to ever share. "Because darling, life's a beach… And when you're out swimming and you hear someone yell 'shark' it's either time to head to land or grab yourself a bigger boat…. There's a new- well old really- type of angel on the prowl and you REALLY don't want to get in their sights."

Dean actually felt his face fall at the demons sudden use of movie trivia. If it wasn't already saying what the f*ck, it was about to.

"To put it for you nicely." Crowley said plainly, even going as far as tracing a box with his hands and tying it with an imaginary bow before putting them back in his pockets where he found them getting comfortable. It seemed stupid on his end, but he simply found himself unable to resist entertaining the pathetic human, Righteous Man or not.

"I'm sorry did you just quote 'Jaws'?"

"I'm merely proving a point lad."

"You think this is a joke?" Dean nearly hollered, his disgust for his sinister sense of humor (which strangely sounded almost like Gabriel's, only not as classy he noted) quickly causing his anger to fuel into rage and he found himself seeing red.

Crowley almost found himself getting nervous, but simply reminded that he was the one with the power here, and if he wanted, could easily leave Dean here to fend for himself and reliving every nightmare he had ever come face to face with. It was cruel, but what else could you expect from a demon honestly.

"I just think that it's amusing that he didn't see that one coming."

"See _what_ coming?" Dean was now just getting annoyed, and found himself stepping dangerously close into Crowley's personal space, so much like Cas used to do with him. Only he didn't expect it to fall so easily at the demons next words.

"What I brought you here to see."

Again, Dean's face dropped as Crowley simply sighed and sported his own blank stare, quickly turning back around and walking forwards, Dean following just steps behind as Crowley chose to continue on with his lesson.

"These angels have been mentioned in the good book but three times," he said, raising a hand to sport three fingers as his gaze remained on the ground watching his shoes as it had been most of the time since they had gotten there. "First time was when Pharaoh refused to release the Jews from slavery and had been warned that ten plagues would befall his kingdom and ultimately, death would come for every first born in the land of Egypt who didn't have the blood of the lamb painted over their doors."

Dean actually remembered that story, and couldn't help but start wondering how or why Crowley even knew this crap. _He was demon for Heaven's sake. Since when did demons read the Bible?_ Crowley went on to count down a finger.

"Second was when King David was warned of his pride, quite the ego on that one I tell you, and didn't listen…so his entire people had been afflicted with disease and ultimately perished. Not a very pretty sight if I do say so myself." He almost sounded snarky, Dean thought, which was almost a welcome change were it not for his usual whiney qualities getting in the way. "And last but certainly not least," Crowley now held out his thumb, sporting it like a trophy as he finished off with his speech. "If you ever cared to pay attention in any of your ancient history classes, for those of us who went to college of course or experienced the event first hand," He couldn't help but smirk at Dean's expense, who simply pursed his lips in annoyance. "You will have heard about the great siege against Jerusalem and the Assyrian army, which frankly never got to be carried out since these angels yet again intervened and killed all 185,000 of those unlucky bastards in one night. Needless to say, an army of men don't mean squat if you got something on your side powerful enough to slaughter them all with just a thought."

That actually had Dean quivering, as Crowley stopped right in the middle of a crossroads and stayed there, kicking at the dirt before turning himself to look back at Dean and placing his hand back in his pocket where it seemed to like being.

"Point of the story as I'm sure you're wondering," which Dean couldn't help but think 'get on with it already'. "Is why I brought you here in the first place."

"And what the Hell is that?" Dean snapped sharply, holding in his bite through gritted teeth.

"Well it's like I said, to show you what Castiel's been keeping from your little bleeding heart." Crowley simply looked behind him and then up, concentrating on one spot in the sky as Dean slowly followed his gaze.

At first Dean could see nothing but empty sky, blowing in all directions from the wind and fires that fed and consumed it. Then he saw it, a tiny speck in the distance, suddenly falling through the clouds and plummeting quickly and painfully through the air before it landed, hard into the ground below it. It was soon joined by four others like it, only these were much brighter, faster, and seemed more in control of their movements as they descended upon it. Their actions were swift, calculated, and as Dean watched he could have sworn he saw a manifestation of them, these big balls of fierce red and orange light suddenly being composed and transforming into something far greater. Like a unit, they descended upon the one small light, growing weaker and more faint as they threw blow after blow after blow. Dean didn't understand, the scene before him happening just miles away from him as he watched from atop the hill, the demon simply standing there quietly as he watched the figure start to writhe and scream. Dean didn't know what to do except watch, wondering what exactly it was that Crowley had actually brought him here to see, until the smaller, fading light in the middle began to die, and manifested into something he had seen _so_ many times over. Even he had to admit, it was something he had missed dearly. A familiar trench coat suddenly appeared, followed by dark hair, blue eyes and a pale face, now covered entirely in blood on one side.

Dean felt his heart stop, seeing his angel sitting there on all fours and being beaten mercilessly as he tried pitifully to defend himself against such an opposing force. Dean started walking, hoping to get closer and maybe even stop this, but Crowley simply grabbed him by the arm before he could even take a step further down the hill. Dean wanted to take a swing at him and protest, but didn't get the chance to even think about it before Crowley explained his reasoning. There was no point in fighting it, not when things were already said and done. "Don't bother sweetheart. This is just a memory you're watching. Can't nothing be done to change it."

Dean just looked so helpless at that moment, being forced to watch in horror knowing that nothing could be done to stop this madness. He felt his stomach coiling as one angel manifested his own vessel; a pale, blonde hair, grey eyed gentleman with an almost sorrowful air and Dean was more than sure that this angel had to be Azreal. He practically had death written all over him. Dean didn't even get a second to process anymore thoughts as the other three did the same, all manifesting their own vessels and stepping back just some as the Angel of Death unleashed his rage and made sure to have Castiel feel every and all of it. Dean felt paralyzed, his limbs shaking and tears stinging as he watched, witnessing the horrors and lack of mercy that Castiel received by every single one of them. Dean expected them to stop, so long after Castiel couldn't even find the strength to get up anymore, but still they refused, giving him all their wrath until one simply tired and moved their actions onto the next.

That didn't mean they stopped, as Dean so unfortunately saw. They simply braked, took turns amongst each other beating him senseless before they began the process all over again. Dean felt sick to his stomach, not just for the bloody and broken state that he now saw Castiel in but also for what he felt. Dean felt guilt, knowing that he, Sam and Bobby did not even consider his sufferings before he had been found, and had continued to throw his previous actions back in his face through their words when he had already taken on so much throw fists alone. Dean felt stupid, so very ashamed and foolish of his actions, that everything he had thrown back at his friend had been cruel and pitiless words. He hadn't even meant them. At least not all, not when they weren't in regards to Sam and his wall breaking, which was probably the only thing that still bothered him right now. But looking at this now, seeing everything that Castiel had gone through just for the sake of them and their life, their world, Dean just couldn't bear the thought of this being worth it. Castiel had voiced that he had received his just punishment, that it was nothing less than what he deserved, but Dean couldn't see that. Couldn't find the logic in it. Not in this, in any aspect whatsoever.

He watched as Castiel struggled just to breathe, his blood now pooling completely around his body and seeping the ground as he was forced onto his knees, the angel Shoftiel lifting him by the lapels of his coat and forcing him to look at him. Castiel didn't even make an attempt to move, simply because he couldn't, and allowed himself to be pulled onto his feet before he was lifted completely off the ground, unceremoniously thrown into the air before he was braced against the sky, his body slamming against it as if he had just been pushed against a ceiling. The angel focused his hand, the others watching almost smugly as he concentrated his will onto the once 'God' and unleashed his rage. Dean watched as Castiel was suddenly engulfed in flames, his Grace spewing from his body and burned to its core as it immersed him in crippling and unforgiving heat.

Dean felt his body freeze, hearing the unholy screams of his friend as he suffered through his torture and broke both in mind and spirit. He begged, pleaded for them to stop with what little words he could manage to say before his screams drowned out the rest. They gave him no mercy, simply went on to watch as he burned and his Grace was destroyed, the flames of his own demise feeding from his very self and surrounding him in their ill and gross intent. Dean couldn't look on anymore, the act reminding him so much of what had happened to his mother that he started begging them to stop, almost screaming as he pleaded but knew that it would be pointless. He couldn't watch anymore, no longer cared to see, and turned away as the flames gave one final push against him before they died down and he was forced back onto the ground.

Dean couldn't watch, shutting his eyes tight and looking away as he heard yet more screams. They still hadn't finished with him, and if the ear splitting sounds that Castiel made wasn't horrible enough Dean was more than sure that everything he had witnessed would be more than sufficient to scar him for the rest of his days. It was like being in Hell again, only this time instead of Dean being the unfortunate victim of their tortures it was Cas, the angel who had raised him from his demise and still saw pity in him, even after everything he had done in the Pit. Dean couldn't see the reason, couldn't understand how Castiel could forgive him like that and so easily, and began wondering what it was that he actually saw in him. Dean was broken, a shattered soul unlike any other and yet here he was watching someone else break and torn to pieces, only to turn to the one person he thought could heal him and instead turned his back.

Dean was now miserable, trying to drown out the deafening sounds still being made behind him as his own pathetic cries mixed with Castiel's own. He couldn't do this, not anymore, and Dean felt something within him break as he started to quietly beg. He didn't give a shit if he looked like a weakling in the eyes of the demon still standing behind him, his own look of regret plastered over his face as Dean fell to his knees and started crying. He felt so pathetic, so utterly and absolutely pitiful for allowing his emotions to get in the way and hurt the only true and loyal friend he had ever had. Castiel had done so much for them, had gone through Hell and high Heaven to help them, and in return they gave him no thanks, simply sneers, and Dean started swearing to himself that that would change. He still felt angry, bitter, only now he didn't know if that was towards him anymore, or if it was now pointed at himself. Dean didn't even need to second guess to know that it was the latter. Dean had to change things, wanted to now more so than ever before, and he started swearing that it would done. Could be done, only and if he was willing to let it…and he was. He had to, if not for his sake but for his own. Dean had to learn to forgive, and that meant more so on his end than in anyone else's. All Dean had to do, was accept it.

The screams soon died down as Dean's own sobs began to do the same, the hunter wiping away at the tears before he slowly turned himself back around to see. He didn't even bother to get up, simply allowing himself to just sit there as he braced one elbow onto his knee and fisted his hand into the dirt below him. He started whispering, asking Crowley to stop this all so that he didn't have to see anymore, but the demon simply shook his head and replied that he couldn't, that there was a reason Dean had needed to see this. Why he needed to know.

"You need to see this all the way through. I can't stop it. Not once it's already begun."

Dean couldn't even respond, simply bowing his head in shame as he tried to ignore the feelings burning through his soul, pumping in his very heart and damaging him to his core. Crowley felt sorry for him, seeing what exactly the hunter was feeling and doing to himself, but couldn't stand to step in and give him comfort. He was still a demon, and he highly doubted that anything he said or did would actually help in any way. He simply gave in on himself and stepped closer, turning his body around and dropping onto his own knees before he carefully sat down and right beside him. He found his own legs crossing and forcing them to lock, his hands now presently out of his pockets and sitting gracefully on his knees, his hands intertwining. He simply watched as Castiel was finally allowed to fall one last time, the seraphim of legend finally coming to terms with their justice and leaving him to suffer through it. Crowley knew what was coming next, but almost didn't want Dean to see as the angels disappeared, leaving Castiel to his own demise as their next stage of torture suddenly began.

"I think you're going to want to see this." He whispered, regretting the words coming out of his mouth almost instantly as Dean slowly looked up and saw himself, standing over the broken angel with scythe at the ready. It had been his favorite weapon in Hell, Crowley clearly saw why, and felt his stomach drop at the look now on Dean's face. If the young man before him already looked broken, whatever little bit of himself that he didn't manage to lose quickly disappeared in that instant.

Dean's shoulders dropped as he watched his manifestation grin, bending down to grab Castiel by the collar and lift his dead weight back onto his knees. Castiel's eyes were empty, looking almost as if the seraphim had taken everything inside him before leaving him to rot within himself.

"Come on _Cas_." The fake Dean raised his scythe, placing the tip of the blade at Castiel's throat before giving him a look of pure seduction, as if to tell him that this would be the final look of him he'd ever get. Dean hated himself more than anything right now, and only wished for it all to be over. He didn't want to see this, but he didn't have a choice. "It's time to have some fun."

Castiel didn't even fight him, not that he could if he tried, and simply allowed himself to be shattered to pieces by the one and only person he truly trusted in this world. This would be their final act of torture, to break the bond he shared with the Righteous Man and by those he loved, to be destroyed at the hands of their own tainted blood and misguided angers. Castiel didn't even fight, as shred after shred of him was ripped and pulled apart, and Dean, the _real_ Dean, felt himself die at that moment. Whatever angers he held against him were now completely diminished, and whatever was left of him that remained were now completely foreboding. Dean hated himself, more so than he ever had in a very long time, and as the scene faded away and brought him back to reality, Dean couldn't help but feel nauseous at the thought of what he knew had happened next.

…

So here he was now, alone, still sitting down on the dirt that surrounded Bobby's salvage yard as he recalled every slash, every cut, ever rip and tear that had rippled the angels body and never once had come to the conclusion of why the act looked so familiar. It was because he had performed it, the signature act of torture that he so favored while down in the Pit now carved clearly through his friend in every way possible. Dean couldn't forgive himself, not after watching everything that he had, and started to wonder when it was he had crossed the line. He had lied to himself, told himself that the actions always justified the means, only now he wasn't so sure. His philosophy in the matter had broken, and he started to second guess every move he'd ever made. By the influences of all those who surrounded him, loved him, shared him.

Dean suddenly felt stuck. Trapped in a hole he couldn't crawl out of. Only dig himself deeper. He felt like he'd been lied to, tricked, deceived, all to keep him safe or just to screw with him. It just wasn't fair to him. Not more he could tolerate. He had already had his fair share.

_Didn't they know that? Couldn't they tell he'd had enough? It was just so like them. To keep the truth hidden. To carry the burden for his sake. Didn't they trust him to do that? Didn't they even care? What did they think of him? To lay down their lives just so they could get through today? Just so they could get to tomorrow. It just didn't seem right. And to Dean it just didn't seem fair. They kept everything from him, because of how weak he was. Because of how fragile. Because of how easily it took for him to get angry, and frustrated and scared. He put it all on the line, and in their eyes, it didn't seem worth it anymore. The cost was so much more than he could bear, and now, he was paying the price. _

_Dean would continue to pay, even if the punishment came straight from himself._

Dean simply turned to his side as he finished his last thought, and threw up on the ground.

**To Be Continued…**

**Authors End Note:** Yeah, I really don't know what to say, but obviously this was pretty freakin' intense if I dare say so myself. I just got caught up in watching episodes of season 4, and this came out for some weird reason. Sorry guys. I have no control over what my brain produces. Honestly. As for the "Jaws" line used by Crowley, that was originally a quote I was allowed to borrow from my friend here Cyberbutterfly, who shared it with me in a message (along with all the research of the Avenging angels and Legion) and I immediately fell in love with it. As much as I would have loved to take credit it for it, there was just no way I could have come up with an epic line like that from such a classic movie, especially one I've ever actually seen, lol. So credit goes to her in that aspect. So sorry again for the late update. I unfortunately got distracted with another verse of mine (that and my work schedule has been completely out of whack) and my muse took over completely before I had to pry her away from it with a crowbar. Seriously, she had me going crazy and I ended up adding 19,000 words along with the already 30,000 that's already in it, and that was just in a day. Yikes. Again, thanks to everyone for your reviews, favorites and alerts. You guys are awesome. I'll try not to keep you guys waiting so long next time. Review please? :)


	16. Chapter 16

**Authors Note:** HOLY CR**. What else can I say except that you guys are AMAZING with giving me all the feedback last chapter. Yes, I was in an *ahem* interesting head space I have to admit, (then again I was listening to a **_lot_** of RED, and still am right now) that when I went back through reading the chapter to search for mistakes and actually got to _see_ what I wrote, all I could think of was 'what the FU** was wrong with me'? And I wasn't even in an angsty mood. Okay sure, I actually dreamt that scene with Cas burning on the ceiling and having his grace burned out of him, but damn, damaged much lol. I mean seriously, I scare myself sometimes with half the things I come up with. I mean, after all that, you still think I should write for Supernatural? You have no idea what I could come up with lol. I'd probably be afraid to come out of my room. :P Ahem, anyways, as promised I have updated a lot quicker this time so as not leave you guys in suspense so enjoy! No warnings this time, except for the massive amount of mental breakdowns. :) And, as for my note on 7x04, hmm, you have an episode on Dean's guilt and not a word of Cas is mentioned… Seriously? WTF! :/ *sigh* That is all.

**Written:** 30 September

**Soundtrack(s):** Hymn for the Missing by RED, Tears and Rain by James Blunt, Carry On My Wayward Son by Kansas

**Word Count:** 10500+

_"Suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope."_

Romans 5:3-4 – The Bible

**Chapter 16**

Dean just needed time. At least enough to compose himself, however difficult that seemed to be. Unfortunately, it would take a _lot_ of time.

Dean now found himself curled up, his knees braced hard against his chest and arms wrapped tightly around them as his head lay back against the stack of metal he sat against. He focused solely on breathing, trying almost desperately to calm the shakes currently wracking his body and twisting his stomach in painful knots. The events of the past few hours had left him feeling cold, shaky, sweating and terrified. And to put it in Dean terms, he felt downright 'sick to his stomach'. He had already puked up anything he had, which frankly hadn't been much, but when his body still protested and his nerves insisted on still eating him he continued heaving, empty chokes of burning air churned with acid and burning his throat, lungs and mouth.

He felt like death had washed over him, grasping him in its clutches and never wishing to leave him be, and he almost welcomed it.

Recalling all those memories, seeing what Cas had seen, feeling what he had felt, it tortured him, more so than his acts in Hell ever could at this moment. It only caused the scar he sported in his soul to blacken even more, something he never thought was even possible.

Dean had always found an excuse each and every time he did it, he would always tell himself with each and every soul that he had been given, that they were there for a reason.

_He beat his wife to death. _

_She drowned her baby. _

_He poisoned his mother._

Any and every excuse imaginable he would tell himself, if and only to make it easier.

But this, this just didn't justify the means.

There was no excuse he could think of, not big enough of one at least to make up for _this_, for what Cas had gone through and suffered. Dean thought _he_ was damaged, but man did that idea change after witnessing his friend go through all that. He couldn't understand it, didn't know how or why, but Cas had forgiven him for all of it, everything, and Dean didn't understand the magnitude of that forgiveness until now. And it made him feel terrible.

Dean just started crying, again not giving a damn about any of it as he simply let his hands fall beside him just like the shattered soul he was right now.

It had been ripped apart and spit on, thrown against the wind and pulled into pieces only to be tossed away. He was such an idiot, a selfless moron for thinking that his friend hadn't gotten the ultimate punishment one could ever receive at the hands of the ultimate judges.

Gods most heavenly angels had condemned him, and in the end, knowing that the angel had but one thing left to look forward to, relied on but one soul to actually get him through it all, destroyed his faith and crushed his spirit, all with the idea of tearing apart that final bond he held. It had been the final straw, to take away his hope and destroy his trust. Dean had been his weakness, had been since the beginning, and only now did Dean actually see that.

It made sense now, how Cas would sometimes flinch when they reached out to touch him, or of the nightmares he would have when they were around, or the way he looked at them almost nervous and sad like.

_Why hadn't he ever seen it? _

_Why couldn't he tell him? _

Dean knew for certain of the answer now, but that still didn't make it any easier. He had wanted to know, so _badly_, and now that he had he regretted every second of it, of ever knowing what his friend had gone through simply for _their_ sake.

It hadn't been worth it, at least not in his eyes, and Dean actually felt himself wanting to fall into oblivion just so he could ignore the pain currently building in his chest. It was heart breaking, sadistic, and Dean had had enough. He let his head roll over to his side, staring down at the ground as he silently closed his eyes and shut out the world, hoping by some miracle to be taken away from it.

He allowed himself to fall, plunge face first into his guilt and depression, and never once thought about wanting to leave it. It was only what he deserved he thought, especially after _everything_ he had done. Dean had been damaged, but Cas…

…_Cas, was beyond_ **_repair_**.

* * *

><p>Dean didn't know how long he'd been out, only that it must have been a while considering he noticed the sun starting to set the moment he opened his eyes. He had fallen asleep against the piles of crushed cars still bracing his back, the sharp metal poking at his spine and ribs and almost causing him to flinch as he recalled his memories of Hell and being ripped apart. That thought quickly disappeared though, what with him recalling Cas' own tortuous demise at the hands of himself and those he cared about.<p>

His own personal fears quickly faded, as he sunk himself back into his despair.

Dean's body felt stiff, his muscles aching and bones cracking as he fought hard to brace himself on tense and locked up knees. Standing felt like a monumental task, but by the time he managed the feat he felt his blood start to flow back through his numbing limbs. His head felt like it was swimming, his brain a dead and lifeless weight floating in his skull, and for a second Dean almost thought he was hung over.

He braced his hand against the car pile, digging his palm into the sharp rusted metal and nearly cutting it, hoping that the sensation would knock a small bit of reality back into him. It actually seemed to work for a second, a tiny indent pushing far into his skin until it broke and made him bleed, the sharp edge cutting right through and slicing him.

He was almost surprised at how he didn't even feel it.

Dean pulled back and grimaced at the sound the action made, of skin being pulled away from its intruder and of the dripping it caused as it was taken back. Dean simply stared down at it, the blood now caking his hand and dripping down his palm, the drops spilling out and staining the ground.

For a second Dean thought that this would be his reality, of self mutilation and guilt that he would take out on himself. Only when he looked away at the sky for just a moment to distract him and then back at himself, he found that the cut had disappeared and the blood he had shed was gone.

Dean was almost baffled, wondering what the hell, but the answer was almost just as obvious considering the circumstances.

He knew he had done it, the act still too fresh in his mind along with the sensations, and now he had an idea that someone was watching him. More than likely a dick with wings, he thought, although he couldn't be sure who. He knew it wasn't Cas, simply because it wasn't possible anymore.

It didn't matter anyways, Dean would never get rid of the anger he felt towards himself, and this was just a start.

He started walking, his legs feeling heavy and dragged down at each step he took as he headed back towards the house. He felt like complete crap, probably looked like it too, but simply didn't care to acknowledge it. It just wasn't important. Not now anyways. He had his reasons, and damn anyone right now who tried to pry him open. Dean was always one to keep things from people, heaven only knew if he would be able to at this moment.

As he made his way back to the old place he was kept an eye on, his recent miracle worker watching him from a safe distance away and gaining a visitor. Usually his instinct told him naturally to smite said visitor, but for some strange reason felt the need to hold back this once, and turned to acknowledge his new ally instead. The war he felt was coming would need many on their side, and frankly, despite their many differences and countless battles, he didn't see a choice in the matter than to do what was necessary.

That didn't mean that they couldn't go back to killing each other afterwards, but right now, they would have to hold off on that.

"You're running."

He didn't even mean it as a question, but as a subtle fact. What other reason could there be to explain it.

"From what?"

"I don't know. Why don't you tell me?" The archangel turned to his right to take in the appearance of the demon, the King of Hell looking somewhat drawn and pale, almost nervous as he tried to hide it behind his veneer. He couldn't hide such things from Gabriel though, not when things were made so obvious. The archangel held down on his hands, digging them further into his pockets as he found his own nerves starting to elevate from what he was sure was bound to reveal itself, in due time. "Obviously if you're hanging out with the Winchesters, it's because you're using them as a bullet proof shield. You're hiding." He showed his distaste now, but again chose not to acknowledge it as a favor to him. "Something big going down?"

"Only the biggest." Crowley swallowed, answering truthfully with a sigh, the glass of scotch still sported in his hand reaching up to his lips and burning down his throat. He needed this, if only to relax a little bit, but it only helped momentarily as his nerves started to grate him again and caused the hand in his pocket to clench. He simply only sighed to himself and breathed out, hoping to gain some form of arrogance even if he wasn't feeling up to it. No need losing your composure in the eyes of an angel, even if it was in the presence of one of the greatest. "If the rumors are true."

Gabriel didn't even try to hide his disappointment, biting the inside of his cheek as he looked down at the ground and cursed at himself softly. He should have figured he'd expect that. "Crap."

"You said it my friend." Crowley didn't even try to hide the fact that he felt the same, and simply downed the rest of his drink in one shot before replying back to him. He only hoped that someone would hear him, the small yet honest prayer of a demon. Yes, things were obviously going to get bad, if even the King of Hell needed to look towards Him for a sign of peace and absolution. They would need it. "God help us all."

The two simply remained on that hill standing there, the foreboding fact of what was to come hitting them both. Hard.

* * *

><p>Dean eventually made his way back to the house as the sun started to disappear over the horizon. He didn't even care that he had been gone for hours, that his brother and Bobby were probably wondering where the hell he had been. Right now all he wanted was some time to think. He needed it.<p>

Dean slowly went inside, quietly closing the door as he made his way down the hall and towards the bathroom. He just needed a second to get his head straight, but unfortunately Sam caught him first, sitting on the couch in the living room as he patiently waited for his brother to return.

What he didn't expect was a shell of that to turn up, and Sam almost felt his face fall at the appearance of his brother.

Dean looked almost half dead, empty, broken, and that had his own heart clenching in fear. He'd never seen him like this, not ever, and Sam had no idea what to even think, what could possibly have made him look this. He didn't look like he'd been injured or attacked physically, but still, something deep was wrong, and Sam knew it.

"Dean?" He slowly approached him, his brother halfway through the door already and white stark face hanging down in shame. His eyes were red, a sheer sign that he had been crying, and Sam didn't know what to make of it. It actually scared him, erasing all other emotions he had towards him at the moment and replacing it all with worry. Sam had wanted to confront him, talk to him, but it seemed like something or someone had already gotten to Dean, and torn the poor man apart. Not just a crack, but completely. "Dean, what happened to you?"

Sam tried reaching out to him, placing a hand on his shoulder to comfort him, but Dean quickly moved out of the way as he tried to lock himself away. He needed to be alone, and now was not the time for console, from anyone. Especially if it was towards him. He didn't deserve it. Not by a long shot.

"I just need a minute," he whispered, his voice hoarse from retching and crying, quickly disappearing into the bathroom and locking himself inside before Sam could even stop him.

Sam already had the gut wrenching feeling, that this couldn't be good. It was the worst he'd ever seen him. _Ever_. Not even when Dean would recall his moments in Hell was it like this. He would usually reach for the bottle and sometimes drown himself in it until he was so drunk he couldn't even speak. But this, this went far beyond what Sam had ever seen, ever thought was possible. He knew, that whatever Dean was currently through, had absolutely broken him.

Sam needed to help him, _now_.

Dean took a second to turn on the lights, the brightness of them quickly blinding him as his tired eyes fought hard to adjust. He hesitantly turned towards the mirror to look at himself, seeing a person he didn't even recognize as he took in his ghostlike appearance.

He was white as a sheet, his shoulders slumped and eyes empty of any and all life, sported by dark puffy rings just underneath. He looked like death, plain and simple, and Dean knew that he felt just like it too.

He slowly braced a hand on the counter to support himself as he turned his body and sat down on the toilet, taking in slow and deep breaths as he simply stared at the wall in front of him. He braced his elbows on his knees, his hands falling in front of him and body suddenly feeling lifeless. He wasn't sure whether he wanted to cry or scream, maybe even both, but lowered his head to clasp them around his hands and squeeze tightly against his temples.

_How could he have been so stupid?_

After everything he had done he still didn't care, allowed his anger to get in the way and erase it all from his presence. He was a fool. A selfish, self centered fool, and Dean didn't even know where to begin to try and make up for it. To take it all back. He hated himself, felt no pity or remorse, but still he knew that he deserved some, if even just the tiniest bit. He didn't want it though, and felt himself shatter again at that moment.

He let everything go, his tired dreams and countless fears engulfing him at that moment, and whatever small bit of himself that wanted to keep it all together simply stood there and let him break.

He started sobbing, feeling his life fall apart around him and embrace him in its deepest sympathies and depressions. He just wanted it all to stop, to finally leave him be, but God only knew that there was but one solution, and he was more than sure that not even _death_ could resolve him now. It was just too damn painful, and he wanted it all to end.

He could hear Sam calling out to him, the door separating them too damn thin for its own good and revealing every cry he made.

Sam was now panicking, wondering what in blazes could possibly be causing his brother to break down like he was. He started shouting, loud enough for everyone else in the house to hear. He kept beating at the door, asking, then demanding Dean to open up and let him in.

Dean wasn't listening though, too wrapped up in his own thoughts and guilt to even care anymore. He wanted to shout back, tell his brother what a huge mistake he had made and that should he ever again disappoint those around him to simply let him go. Dean was a curse to those around him, and anyone unlucky enough to cross his path had obviously been dealt the consequences of his actions in one way or another.

He already knew that it would be pointless though, that Sam would never leave him be, and actually found his own self panicking when he heard the lock to the door being picked, his brother obviously getting worried for Dean's wellbeing and fighting his way to get in.

He heard the click of the lock unlatch, expecting immediately for the door to burst open, but it didn't come. He heard shuffling outside, quiet whispers of reassurance being spoken, and just when he expected that he'd be left alone he wasn't, seeing the door slowly opening with Sam standing just outside it, and Claire carefully walking through it just halfway.

"Dean?"

Dean locked his eyes on hers, not even wanting to acknowledge the fact that Sam was still standing there looking more worried and afraid than Dean had ever seen him. He had reason to feel that way, but Dean didn't want his pity, and so he let it go without consideration.

Claire knew what was happening, felt it deep in her gut and soul as she stared back at him and then to Sam, as if to tell the younger hunter that it was okay and that she would take care of him.

Sam hesitated, didn't want to leave his side, but given the choice didn't even know what to do if given the chance, and thought better to just leave it to her. He couldn't understand why, but for some reason, he felt that she would be the one to get through to him. To pull him out of whatever hole he had dug himself in, no matter how deep he was buried. He slowly walked away, just to down the hall so as not to be too far, and Claire slowly made her way inside the room, closing the door behind her.

Dean didn't know what to do. He couldn't even look at her for shame of what he had done, knowing full well that she had seen it. Had seen everything, and knew the monster that he had become. That he was capable of being.

She knew it, had the entire time, and it was only now that he was realizing it. She felt it, the never ending grief and despair that he carried now, all because he wanted to know what had broken his friend and had unfortunately found his answer. He just never expected it to be this, the fact that his own family had destroyed him, and his only friends had turned on him, and the last person he ever expected to take away what was left to cling on to, was the person who had ultimately destroyed it.

He had betrayed him, broken his friend beyond all recognition, and Dean had never felt more ashamed in his life. He always thought the evils he had committed in Hell were the lowest he could go. Never once did he imagine that one, his final act it seemed, would be towards someone he loved. It was the hardest thing he'd ever had to see, and he couldn't hate himself more for it than he did now.

He didn't even see himself worthy anymore of being called _righteous_.

Claire was saddened at this act, seeing the hunter beating himself up for something he didn't even do and had not been involved. She didn't want him to find out, not like this, but now that he had she felt somewhat relieved, knowing that he did know now, and it had broken him, just as it had broken Castiel. He had his reasons to keep it, to hide the fact from the hunter until the end of his days if he could, but it seemed that Fate just never intended for that to happen. She was sometimes cruel, in throwing you your despairs.

Claire slowly placed a hand on his back, body hunched over and drawing itself within as he tried his hardest to hide.

She didn't want this, never thought he deserved this much pain and suffering, grief and guilt that he was throwing towards himself, yet he was, and he was taking it out on him and _only_ him. Dean was angry, hurt, but above all he was remorseful and ashamed.

He had tried so hard to forget those memories. To erase a past that could never be forgotten or destroyed, and here it was, thrown back in his face at the most cruelest of ways, and in the most harmful. If there were ever a time for Dean to curse his own existence, this surely was it.

She felt his body tremble beneath her fingers, shaking when she embraced him, and then almost convulsing as he suddenly held onto her, clinging desperately as if she would just fly away. She was almost taken aback, unsure of what to do to try and put back this broken man, to piece him back together; an impossible task it seemed. She didn't know where to start, but she figured that if she could help Castiel find some small form of hope in his own trials, that she would have to help Dean as well, considering that the two were literally halves of the other.

When was hurting, so was the other, and neither one had come to realize that. At least not yet they hadn't.

"I'm sorry Dean. I am so, _so_ sorry." She started whispering, telling him that it was okay and that none of it was his fault, silently praying that he'd believe her as she so desperately wanted him to. Dean didn't deserve this, not one bit of it, and he was taking it all like he didn't have a choice. She hated it, and she wanted to make sure he knew that.

He simply continued weeping, his mind unable to process what she was saying and whether to actually believe her. He wanted so badly too, desperately tried to understand how it was even possible for anyone to forgive him after everything he had done, since this whole damn thing started, but she simply insisted that there was nothing for him to even be sorry for. There was no reason to have to forgive himself, for anything, not even for the damnation of the world and of himself.

He simply needed to forgive, for once he did that, only then would he be able to find peace.

She knew he wouldn't believe her, but the fact that she told him was all she knew was needed, as she started to feel him calm beneath her hold and slowly but surely uncurl from his own cold hard grasp. She found herself slowly stroking the back of his head, trying to comfort him as if he were a tiny child, and she felt her own tears start to fall just as his started to stop. His face remained pressed hard against her shoulder, his arms hooked around her waist, her legs now slowly dropping onto the floor to kneel.

This was what was needed, for Dean to forgive himself, even if he couldn't see the possibility of that, not right now.

She would help him. She had to. It was her duty, her right and her burden to take on, to put these two back together and to help them through their struggles so that they didn't break completely and fall apart. The two still held on, but it was now by the thinnest of threads.

After what seemed like several hours she finally felt the tension in the atmosphere shift and start to break, the feeling of calm suddenly settling over them as his mind slowly started to mend. She carefully moved him down to the floor, still keeping a tight embrace around him as she braced him against the tub, continuing to whisper soft assurances to him and keep him calm.

"You have nothing to be ashamed of. We're right here."

Dean didn't even think those words were real, but continued to find them hard to ignore as she continued saying them, assuring him that he had more than just them to turn to and help him through it. God was also watching, had been since the very beginning, and even if he didn't believe in Him and all his love and grace, she still felt the need to turn to Him. To guide her in her most troubled hours, to bring peace to those who needed it…to comfort them, and heal them. It was all she wanted for this man, and she prayed that one day he would be forgiven. Not only in the eyes of the Lord, but also in his own.

"He has always forgiven you Dean. The most beautiful way of showing you that, is by those you love who are still here with you. He wants you to know that, that you will always have Him to guide you." She whispered, hoping that her words would seep in, and finally brighten his blackened soul. He deserved no less than that, and she wanted him to have it. "You will always have your family Dean. Always. Because God, commanded it."

_…It was like a light suddenly went off in his head at the sound of those words, a recollection of the first day he ever met the angel Castiel, his savior, his friend, the angelic being who had become like family. It was like a cold drop of water, landing in the middle of an ocean, and was the only thing to ever make a sound. Dean found himself almost cherishing it, as he found reason all over again._

_"Why would an angel rescue me from Hell?" Dean had never told him, but that very moment, the moment he had first laid eyes on his savior and rescuer of the Pit, had been one of the most monumental, if not the most monumental moment of his life. Dean never had the heart to tell him that. Then again, he knew Castiel had probably already known. He had just never said it. "Why'd you do it?"_

_"Because God, commanded it. Because we have work for you."_

God.

Dean couldn't believe it, suddenly realizing how fortunate he was and how lucky he had been to have those still around him in his life. How could he have never seen it? He had lost Sam countless times, Bobby more than once, Cas almost half a dozen, but still they were given back to him time and time again, and he started to wonder if maybe that was some sort of sign.

He fell asleep thinking just that, his mind brittle and utterly exhausted, holding onto that hollow piece of hope that slowly started to fill, assuring him that he was right where he should be and nowhere else. He simply held onto that, trying to fight back his rage and his anger, everything that told him he was trash and unworthy and unclean. That he was a plague.

He simply ignored it all, and silently fell asleep cradled against his unexpected second savior.

_Their savior. One of God's most beautiful creations._

* * *

><p>He woke up several hours later to find himself right where he'd left off, still loosely embraced around Claire who looked as if she hadn't slept the entire time they'd been there. It was morning, this much he could tell simply by the light that peeked through the bottom of the door and by how peaceful the atmosphere felt.<p>

He couldn't remember the last time he had slept like that, if ever at all, his hunter skills always telling him to sleep light so as not to be defenseless or caught off guard, but this time he had actually _slept_, without a single care in the world or caution in his mind. He suddenly felt himself feeling awkward however when he noticed the position he was in, and carefully but quickly moved himself away and picked himself up.

He had been sleeping against her chest, arms embraced around her waist and hers around his torso, body laying comfortably next to hers and partially on her lap. As strange as it should have been, she didn't seem to mind, the idea of them being in such an awkward position not even registering for her considering the situation they had been in. Dean needed his rest, not just in mind and body but also in spirit, and she found no reason to keep that from him if he so desperately needed it, no matter what the condition.

Dean had been trapped in a daze, a mere shell of who he was, and she felt that no matter what the circumstances or repercussions that would come that she would simply just ignore them. Only because there was a bigger picture to actually look at. She simply gave him a tiny smile as he stared at her, wondering when the hell she had gotten so close to him, and when it was she had actually become someone he could turn to. It was strange to say the least, but if he didn't know any better, he would have thought that he was almost seeing a part of himself in her. A part that he hadn't seen in what seemed like a lifetime. It was life _changing_, to say the very least.

"How do you feel?" She asked simply, her voice calm and gentle as he tried to correct his composure.

In all honestly, he felt great, better than that really as he had in years, but that was only in the physical sense and his mental state was yet to be determined, considering his mind was already starting to race with thoughts of Castiel and his Hell. Dean tried to keep them out, his mind becoming one giant whirl of angst and misery, but fought hard to keep it at bay, which was more than what he could say compared to how he felt yesterday.

To put it lightly, he didn't feel good, but he at least did feel better.

"I'm okay." He replied after a while, staring down at the floor as he remained seated where he was, arms braced on raised knees and hands hanging out.

Claire knew what he actually meant, her own hand sitting gently on her lap while the other found its way to his shoulder. She half expected him to push her away, to still feel the guilt and shame that he carried so dreadfully with him last night, but actually found him falling into it and felt the tension leave his shoulders as they slumped. Dean was finding comfort in her presence, and that was all she could really ask for.

"He doesn't blame you," she whispered, trying to get Dean to look at her as she saw his eyes harden. His muscles tensed again under her hand, his thoughts disagreeing with hers entirely, but still she pressed on, hoping that he would see what she did. That he would understand. "They knew that you were his last weakness. That if they broke you they would break him too, and the only way to do that was for him to think that you and he were over. That you hated him, enough for him to think that you would be the one to try and put him out of his misery." She paused, picking her next words quite carefully. "It didn't work."

She found herself smiling softly, trying to assure the hunter that what she told was truth, and that he would accept it as such as well. He kept his eyes locked in front of him, but still she noticed, the small flicker starting to pierce through. She was reaching him, and she knew now what she had to do.

"He never stopped believing, not for one second." She said, her smile growing just a little wider as she saw his hope started to grow. The progress would be slow, she knew that, but at least it would happen, for both of them. The truth would come to pass. "He had his doubts. He held his fears, but he never did stop thinking that it wasn't you. That you would never do that to him. This is what you need to believe Dean. Because it's what he believed."

If Dean had held any doubts of it all at that moment, he found them slowly disappearing, all behind the weight of the brightest light he'd ever seen.

It was like looking at the true form of an angel. Only this angel, was the young girl sitting right beside him.

* * *

><p>Dean only lasted but a few minutes before he finally found the courage to get up and leave, quickly but carefully making his way upstairs to confront his final obstacle and put his guilt and shame to rest.<p>

Not that it would be an easy feat.

He slowly made his way into the bedroom, finding Bobby already dosing Castiel again with a sedative so that he could get some sleep. It had obviously been a long night, if the drawn look on Bobby's face said anything (that and Sam had informed him of Dean's sudden breakdown which only caused more stress to pile on his already grinding nerves), and even with Cas' back turned away Dean could tell that the former angel had not been well at all.

Castiel whimpered softly at this latest intrusion, the needle pricking through his arm as Bobby pressed down on the plunger and fed the drugs into his system. How he hated the things, but he was so weak from fever and so numb from exhaustion that he couldn't even protest. The hunter obviously thought that he was doing what was best for him, and simply accepted it as is as he urged himself to rest.

"Take it easy Cas. Just relax okay." Bobby whispered in assurance to him, keeping a gentle hand on his shoulder as he extracted the needle from his arm and replaced the sleeve of his shirt back over his bicep. He then proceeded to replace the thin quilt as well, placing it back over his arms and leaving him to try and sleep the pain away.

With the combination of the drugs along with Castiel's fatigue, Bobby knew that it wouldn't be long until the sedative took effect, and they would more than likely be faster than the last two doses. Castiel's too quick breathing was soon starting to slow, his muscles relaxing against the strain of the drugs and Bobby simply urged him to let go.

Dean didn't like this, even if it was for Cas' own wellbeing physically. Dean didn't need him being trapped in his mind when that was where the monsters lay, and Dean quickly made sure that this was going to stop.

He made his way over to Bobby, putting a firm hand on his own shoulder and getting the hunter to look up and back at him from the seat in which he sat. Bobby was about to say something, that is until he took in Dean's gaunt appearance, and suddenly all the words he wanted to say to him about being an idgit or having issues or wondering why he hadn't been around were quickly thrown away.

Dean's face was still slightly pale, eyes glassy and face stern, as if he had just gone through Hell and back and had returned a changed man. Bobby actually found himself getting nervous at this, and wondered what it was that could have happened to change Dean like this. And so suddenly.

Instead of asking however, he chose to take a more gentle approach, without actually touching too much on the subject. The boy looked like he had already gone through enough, and the last thing Bobby needed was making him more on edge. Whatever this was, was far more bigger than he could ever comprehend.

"Where have you been?"

Bobby wanted to ask him more, like why he was still in the same clothes as he had been yesterday and why he looked like Death had just paid him a visit, but thought better of it as Dean simply stared him down.

"I want to talk to him." Dean said, his voice slightly cracked and firm, yet coaxing, as if he was asking the elder man to let him have a moment that he so desperately needed.

Bobby didn't know what to make of this, but had to insist on himself if this was the time Dean finally decided to confront him. Castiel was already feeling terrible. The last thing he needed was Dean bombarding him with all his angers, and all his mistrusts about the past two years and breaking Sam's wall. For some reason though, Bobby didn't think that this was it. It was something in his eyes, something that Dean was holding, that told Bobby that this was something so much more than that. It was bigger, and maybe more than he could understand. He would come to realize eventually, but now, now was not that time.

"Dean I just shot him up with tranquilizer. He's gonna be out for the count any minute. Whatever it is, it can wait."

"This can't Bobby," he replied, his face almost contorted in gentle desperation now. He needed this moment, and he would have no choice but to give it to him. "I need to talk to him."

Bobby didn't like the look in his eyes, something between a mix of sorrow and despair, with a small glint of happiness and maybe even of faith. But mostly they held uncertainly, and this he saw as clear as day. Bobby didn't know what to make of it, but it actually scared him.

Bobby slowly made his way up and let Dean's hand fall off his shoulder, patting him on his own as if to tell him that it'd be okay. He didn't know why, but he felt like Dean would need it.

"He's been feeling a little restless. Make it quick." Bobby said, his own façade coming through even though he tried to keep a gentle face. "Go easy on him."

He turned to leave, but not before Dean stopped him mid step, bracing a gentle hand on his forearm and slowly picking up the syringe, showing it to him, the look in his eyes screening his distaste but also his unnecessary understanding. Bobby didn't know, but the least Dean could do was cut him some slack, knowing that he was only trying to help.

"Do me a favor Bobby. Don't do this anymore okay?"

Bobby almost wanted to ask why, but noticed that Dean looked almost pleased at that moment, and chose instead to simply take his word and silently nodded. He slowly made his way out and left the room, supplies in hand, noticing Claire and Sam just behind the door before they too stepped away and hesitantly headed downstairs.

Dean was now alone with him, silently making his way across to the other side of the bed and planting the seat there, watching Castiel lay on his left side and attempting to find some restful sleep. It wouldn't come however, and Dean knew exactly why, hoping against all hope that he could help him, and help him he would.

Castiel needed some peace, and Dean felt that he could be the one to give it to him.

Dean carefully removed the nearly dry washcloth from Cas' forehead and placed it back in the basin, squeezing out the excess water before placing it firmly against the pulse point in his neck.

Castiel opened his eyes just slightly, the lines around them deep and contorted as he kept them squeezed shut for the majority of three days. He noticed the hunter staring straight back at him, the want to ask him what was happening quickly fading as his brain began to numb. He saw that Dean looked different, but couldn't quite put his finger on why, not until he mouthed his first words on what was sure to be a long conversation. For both of them.

"Why didn't you tell me? Why would you keep that from me?" Dean looked almost angry, hurt, and Castiel couldn't help but feel guilty, knowing exactly what it was the hunter was referring to. He wanted to tell him, to say everything he knew and thought, but didn't get the chance as he noticed Dean's anger starting to build, and he found himself actually getting upset as he almost begged to him for an answer. "Damn it Cas why the hell didn't you tell me what had happened to you?"

Castiel didn't know where to start, wondering how it was that he had even found out in the first place, but something told him that he needed to come clean, and lying to him would pretty much be pointless. Dean already knew, and by the looks of it, he knew it _all_.

"It wouldn't have mattered," he slurred, answering truthfully and honestly, even if he didn't look it. He was just too exhausted to think anything else, and didn't even care to bother trying.

"It matters to me." Dean wanted to holler, but came out soft instead, hoping to God that Cas would understand. Would know what Dean had seen and how he felt; how he actually saw things.

Castiel didn't want that. Not when it was his to hold. He had his own trials to pass, and just like when the war in Heaven first started, he did not want to rely on Dean to help him carry it. This was his, and his alone.

"It wasn't your burden to bear," he whispered, the effects of the sedative already starting to hit him hard as his eyes started to close. He wasn't done yet however, and continued trying to insist that this wasn't Dean's fault. Merely his own. "It wasn't your sentence. You had no reason to know. Not when the burden wasn't yours to carry."

"It is when it involves me." Dean nearly growled, gritting his teeth in anger but trying hard to fight it back as he tried to get Castiel to listen. Lord knew the man could be stubborn, very much like him, but also knew that the self righteous part should be left to _him_ and him alone. He didn't need another dumbass like him walking around their circle. Not when he had his own shit to deal with. Cas had obviously put himself through enough, Dean too, and the last thing he wanted was another to pile on the plate of already mounting crap. "You had no right to keep that from me."

"You were never involved!" Cas nearly shouted, his voice sounding more and more slurred as his mind began to blank on him. He continued fighting however, needing to get this off his chest before another chance passed him up and he would run out of them. He knew, there wouldn't be much left.

He needed Dean to know, even if either one of them held their doubts, he needed him to know. He didn't blame him. He didn't blame him for any of it.

"Dean you were never there to begin with. You can't begin to understand, what I had to go through…what I had to do for you to see, to see you get another chance. It was all…all I wanted…all I wanted you to see. You were _never_ there."

_I was never there to help you either._

"It sure as hell looked like I was!" Dean shouted this time, his frustration making him ignore everything else currently pounding in his head and starting to get the better of him, still fighting to regain composure. He didn't want to scream. Didn't want to shout. Didn't want to fight. But still he wanted him to know, that everything he did, everything he fought for, wasn't worth everything he had gone through. His punishment had been severe, and in his opinion had been far too much for him to accept. "Damn it Cas it looked exactly like when I used to torture souls in Hell only it was you that I was ripping apart! Why the hell would you keep something like that from me huh? Why wouldn't you tell me? I want you, to tell me. _Why_."

For a moment Castiel looked like he wanted to lie, give him any excuse he could think of just so he could stop it now and go to sleep, but his mind was spinning uncontrollably now, and he soon found the will to just give up. To lay the whole truth on the line and simply let it go. Unless the two of them finally decided to get it all out there, there would always be something to hang over them.

"Because it wasn't you." He said softly, trying to voice his words as sleep started threatening to take over completely. He continued fighting however, not until he told him what he had to say would he finally let himself give in. "I knew it wasn't you. Not really. The angels…they knew all about you. Knew what you and I shared…but they wanted to take that away. Just like they did everything else."

He almost sounded sad, like now was the time to finally start shedding tears that he had so desperately kept hidden all these months. It had been a difficult road for every single one of them, but for him it had been the hardest, lying and cheating his way through everything until he couldn't do it anymore. Castiel had reached his end, and only now could he see that.

"You were just a recreation. A manifestation of what they saw in Hell," Castiel paused, remembering the very day he had pulled Dean's soul from out of the Pit and saved him. Saved from perdition and granted him a second chance. It was still so fresh in his memory, even if bits and pieces started to erase as the days passed. He still remembered, and that was all that mattered to him at that moment. "But what they didn't know was your soul. What I had seen. What I still see."

He swallowed, fighting back emotions that he so desperately tried to hide but had now failed to do. There was so much more left to tell him, but now, now was not the time for that. Not when he had so much more to confess to him than simply just those feelings.

"I knew it wasn't you. Because the soul I saw, the one that was with me in my trials…in my nightmares…it was _nothing_ like the one I had held. I knew…because of _that_ I knew…it wasn't you. Dean…it _wasn't_ you."

The silence that befell the two of them for those several moments seemed never ending.

Dean almost felt like crying again, not for _his_ grief but for his friends, holding back his own emotions as he listened to the angel. He had known all along, even with every beating he received and every slash he was given he knew, this wasn't his friend, wasn't the hunter, was not the Righteous Man but simply just a demon. An evil manifestation and recreation of what the angels wanted him to see. Dean should have known, that Cas would never believe something he so firmly knew, in something he believed in.

_This_, had apparently been one of those things.

Dean may have been broken, but to Castiel, he never looked so whole in his entire life.

* * *

><p>The conversation didn't last much longer as Cas finally succumbed to the drugs and fell asleep. His body still felt like a furnace, burning through his skin and leaving his face to sport a bright shade of red, but Dean never left his side and continued trying to cool him down. Even if it wasn't doing anything to help he still kept on with his ministrations, at least trying to make him comfortable as he slept away.<p>

Castiel actually looked peaceful. There was no trace of nightmare anywhere around, not with him there, and Dean found himself feeling relieved at that fact as he saw his lack of restlessness.

He was out of it for two more days before the fever finally decided to loosen its grip and let him go, leaving him weak, tired and sickly, but otherwise better than he had been.

It had been two days of Dean watching over him, helping him in and out of bed, feeding him, bathing him, all the while asking him he was okay or needed anything else. Castiel always replied that he was fine, and always appreciated everything that Dean was doing to help.

There had been one instance that made him slightly uneasy however, his body still incredibly tired and weak from misuse and had been the first time that Dean had needed to help him almost entirely. Wearing nothing but boxers, Dean had slowly and carefully lowered Cas into the already filled tub of warm water, his hand bracing one of Cas' own while the other was held firmly beneath his other arm.

Castiel felt like such a burden, trying his hardest to help carry his own weight but was just too physically exhausted to do so and just let the hunter take over.

Dean was careful with him, incredibly mindful of the scars that trailed Cas' body and trying not to let himself visibly flinch when he saw them. They only served as a reminder of what he had done in Hell, and those were brutal memories that he had preferred to forget.

Dean was very gentle, wiping a moist cloth over his almost bony back and asking him if they hurt, pressing his fingers carefully over the scars. Castiel replied that they didn't, knowing that Dean was still studying them with almost obsessive precision and tracing them in his mind like a branding.

Castiel hated it, but never once told Dean this for fear that it would shun him, his friend trying to find his own way to cope with the act that had been done. He simply ignored it, always noting the slow way Dean would wipe away at his back whenever he reached the two most obvious scars, leading down from his shoulder blades and all the way to his beltline, where he was sure his wings had been. He always tried not to watch, but if Castiel didn't know any better, he thought that it was almost like Dean was trying to reassure himself that this was something he would never, _ever_ do.

Not to him at least. _Especially_ not to him.

Castiel had stopped him once, leading Dean to believe that his ministrations were tickling him instead of hurting, when it actuality it just made him remember what once was there and no longer would be. It simply saddened him and made him uncomfortable, but he didn't want Dean to know that. He was still coping, and Castiel would grant him if not that little bit of peace in a sea of hopelessness and pain.

Dean was always placid with him, being as careful as possible as he helped him, and would leave Castiel to finish the rest himself while he turned out and replaced the sheets and pillows on the bed. He made sure each and every time that Castiel was comfortable, that he left no element untouched and that everything around that needed to be done was carried out with him in mind. They were mending, slowly but surely they were mending, and Dean actually felt his spirit lifting somewhat as the days went by and he started feeling the change.

It was on the sixth day that Castiel had finally broken through the fever. After showering on his own and changing into a fresh plain white t-shirt and red and black plaid pajama shorts, Dean carefully helped him out and made his way downstairs with him so that Cas could get some much needed air.

His room had become extremely claustrophobic, the need to escape the wretched four walls of his asylum showing desperately in his face as Dean allowed him to get some much needed open space. They were now in the living room, Dean watching a baseball game on the TV that Bobby had finally managed to get fixed and with Cas sleeping on his lap, blanket thrown over him all the way up to his chin and resting comfortably and undisturbed.

Dean didn't want him to be bothered, not when he still needed to rest and regain his strength. He kept the volume low and absentmindedly stroked his fingers through the back of Cas' head, the former angel completely oblivious to the world at that moment as he simply lay there and slept. His head was warm against Dean's thigh, his chest slowly moving up and down and keeping up a steady rhythm as he softly snored like nothing was going on.

Dean soon found his hand resting contentedly on Cas' right shoulder, an almost protective stance just laying there as if to tell anyone who might be watching that he would protect him. It may not have been intentional, but then again, Dean never did take his job lightly, not when it came to his family and those he loved and cared about. Even with everything that these two had been through; lies, deceit, cheating, he was still considered someone important in their group, in their family, especially to him, and Dean wanted him and everyone else around to know that. He may never have had the guts to say it but only once, but he meant every word when he did. Dean wanted him to know that.

Family didn't end in blood as Bobby had once so valiantly put it, and it was only now that Dean was beginning to understand what he truly meant.

Dean didn't know how long they'd stayed that way but it seemed almost like a lifetime. The two of them were alone in the house while Sam, Bobby and Claire went out for supplies, but it didn't seem to be long before he had gained a visitor, one that he honestly didn't expect and frankly, couldn't care less for at the moment.

Crowley decided to pop in out of the blue, nearly scaring Dean half to death as he approached him from behind the couch and asked him how the game was going. He had apparently bet money on it, and wanted to know whether to intervene in order to guarantee his winning streak.

Dean would have jumped up had it not been for Cas sleeping on him, but the moment he gained his composure he glared back at the demon, mentally cursing him for such a rude disruption and apparently, pulling Cas out of his sleep.

Castiel shifted somewhat in his lap, his bleary eyes opening just slightly as he went to see who it was who had startled him.

What he saw almost had him wondering if he was still dreaming, but there was no mistaking that stupid smirk.

He knew that he was looking up at Cowley, the King of Hell staring straight down at him from his crouched position right in front of him, Dean's eyes watching him like a hawk in preparation for what he may or may not do. Dean knew better, that Crowley would never try and pull something stupid, especially not with him around, but he almost wanted to find an excuse, any excuse really to simply kick his ass.

Crowley may have done him the favor of showing him Cas' memories and what he had hidden from him, but that didn't mean he still didn't owe him for starting all this shit in the first place. It was because of him that he was in that mess to begin with, even if it did take both a trigger and ammunition to shoot the gun. Still, Dean wanted to put all the blame on the obvious suspect first. And that, was the mother fucker standing right in front of him.

Castiel simply stared at him, eyes now wide open as he took in the face in front of him, that stupid smile never once leaving his lips. Castiel thought it impossible, but simply had to ask, even if the question was stupid in his head.

He decided a smart remark was more appropriate instead.

"Please tell me I'm having a nightmare."

Crowley's smile just grew wider, leaving Dean's scowl to only harden, but slowly die out as he listened to Cas' words. He had to admit, even if it was a pain in the ass to see that the supposed dead King of Hell was actually still alive, the way Cas was reacting was simply just amusing. Little did he know how much more funny it would get.

"Unfortunately for you my friend," Crowley slowly raised a hand and poked him on his forehead with his finger, Castiel slowly following with his own eyes until he went cross-eyed. "I'm quite real."

Castiel took a moment to process this, wondering if maybe he was just seeing things and that this was simply some sick joke, but it soon became clear, that it actually wasn't. Castiel merely closed his eyes and let out a groan, covering his face in the blanket and trying to hide himself as if that would be enough to make him go away. Only he knew, that it wasn't, not even a tiny bit.

Dean thought it cute, and actually found himself laughing, if even just a little.

But, _wait a second_.

The lightness of the atmosphere in the room quickly faded, as Castiel found himself suddenly realizing something and found his anger suddenly boiling without even a confirmation. His mind told him right now that it could be nothing else, could be no _one_ else who could have revealed the secret he so desperately wanted to hide, and he chose that moment, of all moments, to finally blow up.

He remained where he was, head still laying comfortably in Dean's lap as if it were stuck there, when he finally decided to spit his words.

"You bastard. It was _you_ wasn't it?"

Crowley didn't even need to ask to what he was referring to, and simply popped his lips and shrugged his shoulders as if to toy with the man. He found the act too fun to resist, and figured he may as well come clean to the man right now. No point in hiding anymore really. Not when he already thought the guy was dead.

"Can't blame a guy for trying."

"You son of a─"

"Cas, come on," Dean interrupted before he could finish. Although he had always wondered what it would be like to finally hear Cas say his first curse word (assbutt didn't count in his book), Dean didn't think that now was the time to hear that, and so he simply stopped the catfight that was bound to ensue before it even got started. In all honestly, he didn't really think that Bobby would appreciate it either, not when the mess they were bound to create could very possibly destroy the damn place. Bobby may have kept a less than clean home, but it was still his house damn it. "Believe it or not he was only trying to help. You can't blame him for that Cas."

What Dean really wanted to say but left out of course was, 'He was just doing you and me a favor. Now shut up.'.

Castiel hesitantly let it go after a minute of thinking it over, but still, that didn't mean he wasn't still pissed. He made sure to let him know later how he felt, that is if this wasn't really just some sick illusion brought on from the remnants of his illness, and so, he decided to do just that.

"Asshole."

"Touchy touchy." Crowley replied simply, smile only getting bigger as he chuckled and made himself over to a chair to sit on and watched the game. Castiel kept his eyes on him, wondering why the heck Dean wasn't already getting up to find a shotgun and shoot his ass up with rock salt, but he figured that the hunter had his reasons, and simply continued to huddle against him. Dean braced his arm even tighter around him, trying to ignore the demon currently propping his legs up on the coffee table and focusing on something normal for a change.

Castiel was still tired and didn't feel like dealing with any crap, so he simply just let himself slip back into oblivion, hoping that when he awoke that this was all some sort of dream. Just some sick and twisted _crazy, ass_ dream. He fell back asleep with Dean's hand resting comfortably against the back of his neck, the warmth there along with the soft scraping of his nails quickly lulling him back into peaceful nothingness.

He would just let it go for now, praying to God that this was all over when he woke back up.

Only a few hours later when he awoke again, he found Crowley still sitting there with a glass of some sort of tasteless alcoholic beverage in his hand and that stupid smirk still on his face.

Castiel now felt his brow creasing in annoyance, wondering what the heck he had done to deserve this now, and finally mouthed the only words he could think of at that moment as all eyes turned on him.

This was gonna be a _long_ day, and it was only bound to get longer.

"_Son of a bitch_."

Dean simply chuckled, never thinking that he'd feel so proud and couldn't help the wide grin spreading across his face right then and there. It was a pretty priceless moment for him to say the least, and he actually dwelled on it.

Little did he know, that **Shit** was about to go down because of it too.

**To Be Continued…**

**Authors End Note: **Get ready for the fireworks people, and bring some water lol. Well after staying up after work for three nights and getting only two hours of sleep last night to finish up this baby I certainly hope it's worth it to you guys for me to lose so much precious sleep. I wanted to post this before my three day deadline and I'm glad that I happened to achieve just that. I certainly hope it was to your liking. Also, is it just me or do I seem to be noticing a lot of stories and one shots coming out lately mentioning Legion? Is there something I should know lol. Oh yeah, also, has anyone else heard about Balthazar making a reappearance sometime this season? Cuz I've heard some rumors that it's bound to happen, and I want to know if anybody here has heard some details. I'd certainly like to know how that's gonna go down. Anyways, off to go answer some of your messages and e-mails now (well, maybe tomorrow morning since I'm beat and I finally got a day off from work after three freakin' weeks). God knows there's a ton to go through. Thanks again for all the support and please review. :)


	17. Chapter 17

**Authors Note:** Okay, two things before I begin here. First of all, damn my muse to Hell for going back to the previous chapter and adding 1400 more words to it to leave it at 10500 (Yes that's TEN freakin' THOUSAND) when the bi-atch was already more than long enough already. *sigh* Second of all, time to bring some humor into the mix so get ready for it as I bring everyone involved in this story together for one big unexpected clash out! I didn't imagine it coming out this way, but the characters took over my brain and decided to make this crackish to a certain extreme. In the famous words of Leviathan!Cas: This is gonna be _so_ much fun. :D Also, it's time for Gabriel to make his reappearance with the Winchesters, so get ready for some WTF moments too. Yay! *claps enthusiastically* If you guys think the beginning may be a little nutty, again you can blame Cyberbutterfly since she put the song "Ballroom Blitz" (which has absolutely **nothing** to do with this chapter, or this story in general lol) into my head while I was writing this, and for some strange reason it got stuck on repeat. Hehe. That, and it had me writing a bunch of side notes in this chapter for some weird reason. Anyways…Enjoy! Oh and yes, the funny little scene you'll see with Claire and Crowley in this chapter, so her idea. I just put it down on paper. XD

**Written:** 17 October

**Soundtrack:** Riot by Three Days Grace

**Word Count:** 9100+

"_And if one prevail against him, two shall withstand him; and threefold cord is not quickly broken."_

Ecclesiastes 4:12 – The Bible

**Chapter 17**

Two things happened suddenly that Dean didn't expect (and actually surprised the Hell out of him, which says a lot).

One, was seeing Cas freeze at the sight of seeing Crowley actually alive and well, sitting just across from him with a glass of scotch in his hand, feet propped up on the coffee table and watching the baseball game that just _never_ seemed to end (there had to be some funky mojo going on there somewhere).

"Well good morning sunshine." The demon pleasantly chimed, noticing the sleeping beauty awake and apparently infatuated with the sight of him. "Sleep well?"

_Did I say infatuated?__What I meant to say was…_**infuriated**_**. **__Yes, infuriated was more like it_.

Second, was when Cas got up suddenly and tackled said demon to the floor, throwing punch after punch after punch at him. All the while, Dean tried to slowly wrap around his head the scene in front of him, that said demon and said former angel, were quite literally, scrapping on Bobby's living room floor; punching, scratching, clawing and even drop kicking until one or the other was tossed to one or the other side of the room.

Currently, it was Cas who was winning, although just barely. (Guy may not have had his halo anymore but he did still have millions upon millions of years of combat experience under his belt. Can't count the guy out with that kind of resume.)

Dean began to wonder if maybe he should intervene, but when Bobby came downstairs at that moment to stand next to him, watching said fight currently getting a little rough and dragging over to the hallway towards the study, Dean simply continued standing there, and watching like an idiot.

He couldn't decide. Get involved and break it up, or simply let it happen until one or the other got tired or quit.

Bobby apparently agreed with the latter, the older hunter simply standing there along with him, his arms now folded across his chest as he continued watching.

"They just need to duke it out." Bobby said casually, looking like he saw this sort of thing happen all the time and looking almost amused (and proud strangely enough) at the brawl currently going down on his floor as Cas' fist made its way to Crowley's face, and he was met with a punch to the jaw in return.

"Right now though?" Dean said back just as casually, continuing to just stand there opened mouthed and frozen as the two continued to beat each other to a pulp.

No blood had been shed, yet, that is until Cas' elbow met with the tip of Crowley's nose and snapped it, blood immediately gushing out just as his fist made its way to Cas' left temple, the giant ring he was sporting cutting right into his eyebrow.

"Well I would have preferred it not being in my house but…well, might as well get it out of the way I suppose." Bobby couldn't help himself. He just _had_ to let out a chuckle at that moment, seeing as the scene in front of him was just too darn funny in his mind…and cute (which was something he would never _ever_ confess to _anyone_, not even if you tortured him).

The two continued going at it, Cas apparently pushing and shoving Crowley around mostly while getting a few good licks in; books falling, papers flying and a lamp breaking just as Cas was getting tired, the angel finally getting what he wanted as Crowley leapt up off the ground to tackle him again, and was met with his face suddenly planting into the floor, _hard _(that couldn't be good for his already broken nose). Needless to say, an actual evil and satisfied grin made its way across Cas' face as his chin pointed upwards, now sporting its own little bloody cut, showing the demon the reason why he suddenly found himself unable to press forward. (You'd think he'd already know what with being in Bobby's house before and all, but apparently that little detail failed to cross his mind)

Crowley slowly looked up to see himself trapped, right in Bobby's devils trap.

In the famous words of his opponent: _Son of a bitch_.

Crowley, knowing that he was stuck with no possible means of escape, simply rose himself onto his knees and then up onto his legs, wiping away the blood from his now slightly crooked nose onto his dark sleeve and straightening out his suit.

Cas on the other hand had exhausted himself, the former angel now being picked up from behind by Dean, the hunters hands cupping under his arms and gingerly pulling him to his feet.

"Alright Cas come on. Up and at em'." He said somewhat amusingly, finally deciding in his mind that this fight was very much worth watching after the last few days and nights had been anything but. He could probably cross that out as his entertainment for the month as well, knowing him.

Just at the thought, he couldn't help the wide grin now showing up on his face.

Crowley remained standing there, all casual and acting as if he was unscathed (after pulling his nose back in place that is), his hands now in his pockets as he balanced his weight back and forth on one foot. Clearly he was annoyed with the fact of being outdid by a 'former' angel, but he had to give him his props. For a gangly little celestial turned mortal, he could still pull his weight in a fight. God knew he had proven that more than once in the past four years or so. It was only natural that he had still retained some of that fighting spirit, even without the wings anymore.

"Now is that any way to treat your guest?" Crowley said carelessly, running his tongue though the inside of his mouth where he felt a sting somewhere behind his right cheek. He figured he must have bitten it when Cas had punched him in the face that second or, maybe it was the _third_ time. Frankly he had lost count how many swings the angel had managed to get on him.

He did know however how many he managed to get back. That number was more important, and the thought actually got a smile to cross his slowly bruising and pain pinched face.

As if knowing what the demon was thinking, Castiel made sure to punch him right where it hurt, and wiped that stupid smirk off his lips. "I got more in. And you're no guest of mine you piece a crap."

_Well that felt like a massive kick to the jewels…and his pride._

Dean couldn't help but snort as he sat Cas down into one of the kitchen chairs, resting his hands on his lap as Dean went to grab an ice pack and towel for him to wipe his face with. He could already tell that the cut on his left eyebrow was gonna need stitches, and the one on his chin and on the bridge of his nose (what was with him always getting cut thereanyways) would heal just fine on their own in a few days.

Crowley didn't appreciate his response one bit, and decided that he was just better off toying with him again, since the demon in him obviously enjoyed it so much. _Bastard_.

"Now now Castiel, I thought you and I were on good terms the last time we met. What with the whole getting you the souls of _Purgatory_ and _all_."

Clearly, Castiel wasn't amused at that not so distant memory. He could live without remembering all of that year, but then he already knew the prefect rebutting reference to such instances. He'd heard Dean say it countless times, and was more than sure that Crowley was thinking it right now. _Where's the fun in that_. _Ass_.

"You tricked me. _And_, you turned on me when you went to _Raphael_!"

Crowley shrugged his shoulders, pursing his lips as he thought about that for a second. Needless to say, the man did kind of have a point.

"Well there is that." He said plainly to himself, taking another moment to think about it when the obvious answer occurred to him. It might as well have been gold, for the amount of times it had gotten him out of trouble. He figured he might as well add a little flare to it too, for old time's sake. "Oh _come_ on, I'm a _demon_. What did you expect?"

Cas was just about to snap another smart remark back at him, but before their little snippet could continue Dean decided to end it, handing Cas a wet towel and placing an icepack on the table for him. He already had a bruise starting to form on his right cheek, and the cut on his eyebrow was already beginning to swell a little, so Dean decided to get the work over with and headed over to the cabinet to get the suturing kit.

"Alright you two put your junk away," he said, instantly recalling the last time he had said that to Cas (another memory that hadn't been distant enough for either one of them), going back to him and placing the first aid kit on the table, readying the needle and thread so he could stitch him up. "You guys can hash out on each other later. Right now, I think you two have more than made your points."

Castiel simply turned his head away slightly and pursed his lips in annoyance, Crowley doing the same as he started slowly walking around the circle that caged him. Neither one had anything better to do, so both figured (oddly enough), that Dean was ultimately right in the matter and that there would be plenty of time later on for them to finish their little lover's quarrel. _Or so both hoped_.

Dean barely gave Cas two seconds before he asked him if he was ready and started stitching, the angel wincing at first from the stinging pain before Dean apologized and told him to suck it up. Cas almost looked like he wanted to clobber Dean there for a second, but thought better of it as he went back to wiping away the last of the blood from his chin and pressing the ice pack to the side of his face.

Dean was finished within just a couple of minutes, taking a fresh washcloth and dousing it in peroxide so he could clean the wound out and finish stitching up the rest. Dean really hated the idea of always having to patch Cas back up like he was some sort of ragdoll, but he still had to admit, he was kind of impressed with the former angels tolerance of pain. Even if it still wasn't to the extent of theirs.

Crowley chose that moment to continue bantering, clearly unsatisfied with their behavior towards him and with Castiel's especially. The demon still had his own frustrations to get off his chest, and figured with him being trapped within a circle and all, that now was a good a time as ever to take it off his plate. Again, the demon inside him had nothing else better to do at the moment.

"In my defense angel, you tried to kill me."

Castiel wasn't even gonna dignify that with a response, but his tongue got the better of him. "That was the idea you dumbass!"

"Well aren't you a cheeky fellow."

"I _did_ kill you." Castiel snarled, his anger for the King of Hell starting to build more and more the longer he stood there.

Castiel was borderline between enraged and confused, and he actually started questioning himself. His memories of that year of being possessed may have been sketchy at times, but _that_ specific memory was untainted and clear. He thought, no he knew that, but now, now he couldn't be so sure. What else had he thought was real and actually wasn't? Could he have imagined it all? Could it all just be a dream or nightmare that he simply made up? Or was someone toying with him? Was all of it even real, and if it wasn't, then why did he bear the scars of all his torments? How could he explain all of that? Castiel was starting to run it over and over again in his mind, and he found himself doubting it all. If it was even real. If it actually had all happened. If the moment he was in now was even there. Castiel couldn't be sure anymore, and it started to worry him. Scare him even. If none of it was real, then why was he imagining it? Why was he _seeing_ it?

"I _remember_ killing you." He said, so sure of himself as if were fact, but deep down he his doubt behind those words. It just couldn't be possible, but now, he just didn't know. "You shouldn't even be alive."

"You thought you killed me." Crowley corrected, pointing his finger towards the angel as if to prove a point. "But I haven't gotten away with everything I have by making myself vulnerable my dear boy. I played you, and I played you good. Even as a _god_." He smirked, watching the bitterness rising from Cas' chest as the memories of that time slowly came creeping back.

Crowley was obviously trying to torture him with the memories of what he'd done, but Castiel just didn't want it. The souls may have given him the power to change things, _many_ things, but they had apparently blinded him as well, in more ways than just the obvious. He had committed so many acts of cruelty, and unfortunately, not all were under his complete control. He had meant well, but much came out as anything but. He had not just swallowed souls but also monsters, monsters so ancient and heinous that they were long before even his time or that of his oldest brethren. They had been heartless, ruthless, and so evil that he hadn't even realized it. He had been blind, and it was only now that Castiel was beginning to see that.

Dean and Bobby merely stood standing there as well, looks of irritation and confusion clear on their faces. As much as they hated to admit it, they knew that their issues regarding that little fact may never truly go away. They could try and bury them, forget them, but they always knew, they'd still be around to haunt them.

Always.

"There are certain things you don't understand, and wielding great power like that which you once possessed and obviously couldn't _control_, is one of them." He paused, his smirk disappearing all of a sudden as his face went stern and serious. Both hunters immediately caught on it, and began to wonder what it was the demon wasn't actually saying. There was meaning behind his statement, they just didn't know what. "You didn't bury me Cas...you buried yourself."

"Alright, that's enough." Bobby said, finally stepping out of his little corner and stepping between the two of them. He'd heard enough, frankly they all did, what with air around them now getting a little too heavy to even breathe in, and he chose right then and there to stop it so that the peace could be kept.

Obviously they still had many other issues amongst each other, too many to even count and more than enough to fill a few hundred stadiums for sure, but Bobby wasn't going tolerate that in his house. Not under his roof, even if the King of Hell did have a point. Cas had learned his lesson, received his punishment, and that was payment enough in his eyes. He knew about the nightmares, could still here the screams he made those weeks he recovered from his ordeal, but he never _truly_ knew the extent of those memories. Not like Dean did. And he had a feeling, that he didn't really want to.

"You two can bitch all you want later. But it sure as Hell ain't gonna be in my house."

"Deep down you know I'm right Bobby. You shouldn't _hide_ the truth from him. He's not a child and shouldn't be treated like one who was caught with his hand in the cookie jar."

_Funny how the demon actually made a huge amount of sense. Hell must have been freezing over finally._

Castiel simply turned his head away in shame, knowing that Crowley was right on all accounts, but Dean simply put a hand on his shoulder as if to assure him and tell him not to worry about it, that it was over, even if he didn't actually say it. Dean's eyes refused to stay away from Crowley, and he silently wished to be able to burn a hole through his skull right then and there. The guy may have helped them a lot throughout the years, including and especially during the whole apocalypse fiasco, but that was all in the past now and he was unfortunately, just a big pain in their ass now. _Useful_, but still a pain.

"I ain't trying to hide anything." Bobby stated simply, talking to him as if trying to come to a resolve right then and there and simply just get everything out on the table and out of the way.

Bobby just wanted some peace, just as much as they all did, and the only way to do that was to simply just lay everything down on the line and take care of it now. It's not like they could keep it simmering until one of them popped. Bobby just wanted peace, and chose to dwell on that.

"I'm simply saying, if you got something to duke out with one of my boys you take it outside. When you come in this house, _you leave your __**shit**__ at the door_." Bobby emphasized, sounding like he was talking to a juvenile instead of a centuries old demon. He couldn't help but think, _if that's how they want to act damn it, then that's what they'll get_. "I don't think I need to say that twice."

Crowley simply just stood there, not at all moved by the display of fatherly affection from the hunter while Castiel just stared at him in slight awe and admiration. Bobby had just acknowledged him as one of his sons, in a way just as he always did with Sam and Dean, and whatever little resentment remained in him from his recent clash out with the King of Hell quickly disappeared at that moment. He felt his chest almost swelling, only this time, it had been from a good thing.

Even Dean had to smile lightly at that, and Cas could actually feel it radiating through his touch.

"That goes for you too boy." Bobby said gently, turning around to look back at Cas who silently nodded back. Bobby knew that he had said enough, and turned back to the demon as he glared at him.

Crowley wasn't the least bit intimidated by the old man, but even he couldn't deny the courage that lay within him when it came to protecting those he cared about. It should have made him physically sick, but Crowley chose not to say a word about it anymore and let it drop. Almost.

"He started it."

Even at just a whisper, Bobby still heard it, which only proved his point that he was talking to a bunch of kids.

"Oh quit your whining." He snapped softly, turning towards the demon and then back to Dean as he chuckled softly in amusement and put the items away into the first aid kit. "As for you," Bobby said sharply, staring hard at Dean as if he blamed him for all the ruckus currently sporting around his home. "Help me clean this place up."

Bobby went about picking up some of the items that had been tossed on the floor during their little escapade, starting with his books and gathering up his papers. Dean went about putting the items back in the first aid kit before lending a hand, softly telling Cas to stay put since the former angel looked just a little too tired to even stand right now.

Cas nodded slightly as he turned his attention to the center of the table, his right hand pressing the icepack to the side of his face as the sting of the punch there started to throb. He simply ignored everyone in the room, and dug deep into himself as if to hide.

Dean and Bobby simply went about cleaning up; stacking, piling and organizing things until they were at least a little neat.

Bobby still couldn't believe that it had taken this long to happen, but he knew that it was bound to nonetheless. He clearly wasn't amused, but also acted like he wasn't already expecting it. These two were bound to reconnect in some way shape or form, and the clash that ensued was pretty much inevitable. Bobby may have looked pissed about it, but deep down, he was almost laughing. Not because of the ugly brawl that had ensued, but because the atmosphere around suddenly felt a little lighter, and it very much reminded him of how Sam and Dean would fight sometimes when they were kids.

Those days seemed so far away now, but Bobby could still picture them sometimes during his most solitary moments alone in his home. He had grown quite attached to those boys, and it was only natural that Cas was falling under that category now.

Bobby may not have had any children of his own, but those three boys were clearly more than enough for him.

Castiel wasn't feeling that change in the air though, not now at least. His mind was now very much distracted at the moment, and he couldn't help but start to think about things that still plagued him. Things were suddenly starting to feel so personal, too perceptive, and he actually felt a shiver run down his spine as the cut from his nose started to shed another droplet of blood, which he quickly wiped away.

He sighed shakily, his mind running at a million miles per second as he tried to chase all the memories of the past two years away.

He quickly tried to break apart from that, and reminded himself that he wasn't even there anymore. That his Hell was now a distant recollection. He was safe now, even if things still weren't as they once were they were still better. He didn't need to be afraid, or worried, or anxious. There was no reason for that, not anymore at least. But now he had doubts, doubts that started to taunt him that maybe this wasn't real. That maybe he was still experiencing his sufferings and that this was just another torture playing in his mind. He didn't want to think about it, didn't want to even pay attention to it, but deep down he feared it. It haunted him, just as much as the memories of being burned, beaten and broken always did almost every night.

He hated it, so much so that he could scream.

But there was also things he _could_ count on as real, and that was what was happening around him now. Things had changed for him, many things, and a sense of peace and tranquility was definitely one of them.

He had gone through so much with the hunters in the past four years, more than he'd ever gone with any of his siblings in his lifetime, and he found that he was actually starting to feel more at home here than he ever did in Heaven. Maybe it was because of everything that had happened with the war and the apocalypse and the lack of his Fathers presence. It could be a number of reasons really, but still, even though Heaven had always been his one true home, it just didn't feel that way anymore. So many things were now different in that aspect, and he knew that it would just never be the same.

_He had friends here, brothers here, he had a life here. Perhaps, he could have something more than that here too, if it were even possible. If only he were given the chance, if there even was one…would he be able to take it?_

Castiel hadn't even noticed that he was spacing, his thoughts completely drowning him and everything else around him out. Not until Crowley had noticed did he see, the demon still parked in one spot in the middle of the devils trap.

Of course, Crowley just had to point this out to everyone else who was there.

"What are you brooding about?"

Castiel didn't even take into account that the demon _almost_ sounded concerned, and chose to snap out of his trance by snapping back at him, hopefully to hide his irritation. It didn't go so well.

"Go to Hell."

"King of it darling."

"That's enough." Bobby said sternly as he piled up the last of his books on the shelves and the rest that didn't fit onto the floor. He didn't want any more fighting, and chose to stop it before it got out of hand again. The last thing he needed was _that_, for if it did it would probably be more than just his living room and study that got redecorated.

Crowley stayed silent, Castiel as well, and the last thing Bobby wanted right now was starting this mess all over again. If they did, _they_ would be the ones to clean it up this time, and he didn't just mean his house. He simply started mumbling under his breath, whispering silent profanities and even a few choice words in Latin, before he just came out with the one thing he had wanted to say since the beginning. He figured, now was as a good a time as ever to use it.

"I'm surrounded by idjits."

Dean snorted and laughed as Bobby disappeared downstairs to the panic room, Crowley just shaking his head and rolling his eyes, and Castiel simply smiled wide at himself. That was enough to lighten the mood around them, and he found that he actually appreciated the insult.

Dean had gone about getting the rest of the papers and sweeping up the broken glass from the lamp, and after just a couple more minutes had managed to make the place look like new again. Well, as new as it was gonna get anyways.

…

Sam and Claire joined them soon after, hearing the noise, bangs and hollers from upstairs and curious to see what the heck was going on. Sam just stood there dumbfounded as Crowley continued pacing around his miniature prison, and Claire almost wanted to laugh at him until she saw the state Castiel was in. That just managed to piss her off but Cas insisted that he was fine and not to worry. The smile he now had plastered on his face was enough to assure her, especially since she also noticed the bruises and cuts on Crowley's face and figured out pretty quick that the former angel had apparently been the victor.

He looked anything but with all his own injures, but honestly, he'd had worse. She already knew that.

Just as Bobby returned from the panic room to get a few choice items, Crowley was starting to lose his patience and started asking when he was going to be let out of his little corner. He didn't appreciate being treated like he was some little kid who had been caught doing something bad (although in his defense, considering he was a demon, it was only in his nature; he couldn't control that) and started demanding that he be freed.

No one budged to even try, and he soon started asking, nicely, and then just in general as they went about their business. Maybe fifteen minutes passed before he lost what little patience he actually had, and decided that reinforcements would be needed at this point. Just not the ones he thought of.

"Isn't anyone gonna let me out?" He asked again, tiredly this time and clearly not amused with their tortures. Seriously, he was the demon here. Tortures were _his_ thing.

"Nope." Dean answered plainly, skimming through a book before he placed it back gingerly on the shelf. "Maybe we should call on an angel and just ask them to smite your ass right here and now. Take care of a _lot_ of problems." Dean smiled cutely, turning over to Sam and then Bobby. "What'd you guys think?"

"Sounds like a plan to me." Sam answered plainly, a hint of sarcasm hidden under his grin.

"Bobby?"

"Well you don't have to ask me twice." Bobby didn't even bother to hint that he wasn't actually serious.

"Great! Then I think it's settled."

"Wait, wait, wait, don't I get a say in this?" Crowley asked, the demon not so sure that they were actually joking anymore.

He got his response quite quickly, as everyone in the room answered a collection "no" in unison.

"Oh come on. You can't actually be serious." Crowley started to fidget in his spot, suddenly getting more than just a bit nervous at his unexpected predicament. His eyes started trailing, his mouth twitching, and if it weren't for the evil, satisfied grin now being sported on both Dean, Sam's and even Castiel's faces, he actually wouldn't have bought it.

It was official, he needed reinforcements. Screw that, he started _praying_ for reinforcements. _I could use a little help here._

Crowley merely gave out a sigh and folded, calling their bluff and decided that he might as well come out with his own. He was sure that it was bound to buy him a little bit of time, and it seemed like the perfect opportunity right now to just throw it out there.

"Fine. Fine then lads. Why not. You've got one tailing you anyways." Crowley said matter of factly, acting as if he wasn't even phased by the threat. Not that he had reason to. No siree Bob (_start gulping dude; you're_ dead).

"Let me a guess?" Dean said back just as casually, willing to go another round of mind games with him until they ultimately decided what to do with him. "Could it be…a chick who looks like she walked straight out of a Lord of the Rings movie right?"

"Oh no my dear boy. This one you actually know. Have for much longer," he said tauntingly, and decided right then and there to drop the bomb, or his trump card as he saw it. "Goes by the name of…_Gabriel_ if memory serves me right."

If Hell didn't feel like it just froze over, the air in the entire house sure as heck just did at that moment. Needless to say, it took a few seconds for everyone to actually process that little fact.

"Gabriel?" Cas immediately shot up, not expecting that answer just as much as they.

"Gabriel's alive? !" Dean piped up next, not believing him for one second considering the last time they had heard of him, the guy had died at the hands of the devil. There was just no way he could be alive. _No_ way. This had to be a trick. Right? _Nice going Dean. A trick in honor of the _Trickster_. Dumbass._

"Alive and kicking." A voice suddenly chimed from the living room, the figure making his way casually over to the study and stopping dead in front of the demon currently caged. "Hey there buuuuddy. You rang?"

"Didn't think you'd hear me. Do you mind?" Crowley pointed up at the ceiling, the archangel already getting the picture and smiling.

"I think I can help with that."

Gabriel suddenly swiped a finger in the air and formed a crack in the ceiling, effectively rendering the trap useless and allowing Crowley to step right out. Finally.

"Thank you my friend."

"No problem."

"WHAT THE F─"

"Woah! Slow down Dean-o, no need for those kinds of words now huh? We have a lady present." Gabriel chuckled, clearly amused by the looks on _all_ their faces, Dean, Sam's and Castiel's especially. "So… Missed me?"

_Uhhhh yeahhhh, Hell just most definitely froze over._

* * *

><p>"You have got to be kidding me."<p>

"Isn't he supposed to be dead?" Bobby asked casually over to Claire, who merely shrugged her shoulders and found no words to even say, her own voice freezing along with everyone else's.

"Now _you're_ working with him?"

And if that didn't sting to the former angel still sitting so close behind him. Dean promised to apologize later.

"Woah, woah, woah dude _chill-ax_. Who said I was working with him?" Gabriel asked jokingly, almost laughing at himself at the look on Dean's face. _It was just damn priceless_. "I'm not crazy like my idiot brother here. I know when and when not to make deals with demons. Especially a slithery snake like this guy," Gabriel pointed to Crowley. "No offense."

"None taken." He answered back just as cheerfully.

"Seriously, what the _Hell_?" Dean was pissed, confused and almost amused at the irony, but was starting to find the situation anything but funny and wanted answers. More than just a few right then and now and it all started with, 1) how the fu** was Gabriel even ALIVE, and 2) why in the hell was he teamed up _apparently_, with _**Crowley**_? Really, Dean didn't need this shit right now. "You wanna explain to us what the hell is going on?"

"Of course I do, but first of all," Crowley pointed a finger in the air just as Gabriel did the same to repair the crack he made in Bobby's ceiling. He was sure the guy didn't want any more damage to his house than he already had. "Anyone here wanna make a deal? Trade for a soul perhaps? You know information from me isn't cheap now that I don't have a noose around my neck."

Crowley smiled that cheeky grin, Gabriel simply watching him from just a couple feet beside him and almost smiling amusingly. If he didn't know any better, he'd think right off the bat that this wasn't gonna end well. _Unlucky bastard_.

He turned his attention immediately over to Claire, who was still just standing in between Bobby and Dean as if her feet were just planted right there on the floor. I mean really, she thought she'd be used to all this weird stuff by now.

"How about you my dear? I've grown rather fond of you. Care to take a small journey to the other side at the end of your days?"

Crowley continued smiling, bending over just a little to meet her eye to eye. She simply stood there frozen, dumbfounded even, and not even she expected what had suddenly happened next.

Before anyone could even protest her giving an answer, Claire found herself snapping at the cheeky bastard and swung, her fist suddenly meeting him straight in the jaw. Everything just stopped at that moment, and then started an _uproar_ of almost biblical proportions. It was just too damn amusing really.

Gabriel started laughing hysterically, his arms wrapped tightly around his midsection as he almost fell to the floor in absolute purified glee.

Dean just shook out of his stupor and gave her a high five as she turned around, clutching her now stinging hand against her chest and returning his gesture with the other.

"I knew I liked you."

"Thanks."

Gabriel just continued laughing harder.

Bobby merely mumbled that he deserved that, which only had the archangel laughing even more to the point of almost choking now.

Sam simply stood there shocked, while Cas looked extremely proud and handed over the ice pack he still had currently against his face as she made her way over to him. Her own face was now slightly contorted in pain, and she bit down on her bottom lip as she tried to ignore it.

Her hand felt like she had broken it, but frankly, the pain was worth every bit considering the look now sported on the demons face. Crowley looked just as surprised and shocked as any of them, holding onto his jaw as he felt something move inside his mouth. He mumbled, trying to get around the sensation currently drilling through one of his molars.

"I think she knocked out a tooth."

One quick snap of his fingers and he had proven his theory, pulling out one of his back teeth and holding it with his thumb and index finger. He wasn't the least bit amused at the sudden unexpected turn of events, but Gabriel still managed to find it funny. And oddly almost scary.

After managing to control himself and finally prop himself back on shaking legs, he let out a final chuckle and looked over to her, a wide smile plastered clear across his face in amusement and pride. No wonder his brother stuck around this girl.

"Damn. You got quite a punch there kid. I'm actually impressed."

Claire simply smiled forcefully at the archangel, before turning her attention back to her now throbbing hand. Crowley continued standing there embarrassingly as the air in the room started to die down, trying to recompose himself and show that he was still the King of Hell damn it. If there was going to be any taunting towards _anyone_, it was going to be from him gosh darn it.

"I'd like to point out for the record that that was just a _**joke**_." He shouted, tossing the tooth away in the trash can like a basketball falling into a hoop and continuing to run his tongue through the inside of his mouth as the space there started feeling awkward.

Gabriel simply chuckled again and heaved out a sigh. His day had just gotten so much better after the past couple of minutes, and the one thing he really needed after all the mayhem happening these past few months was a really good laugh. God knew it wouldn't last very long, not if the rumors swarming around downstairs were true anyway.

Gabriel simply started walking casually towards the kitchen as Crowley continued nursing his jaw, walking up to Claire and grabbing her hand gently in his.

"You my dear, are a rare gem." He then went on lifting her hand and placing a chaste kiss upon it, healing it of its cracks and taking away the pain.

She simply stared back at him, unsure of what or even if she should say anything, and simply pulled herself back as he let go.

She had never been in the presence of an archangel before, not ever, and she really didn't know how to react to it. Gabriel was one of them, that much she was certain of, and instead of being careful and feeling cautious for Castiel's wellbeing, she immediately put her guard down in front of him, and decided that he was okay. She needn't worry she thought.

Gabriel then turned over to Cas, the former angel simply staring at him through confused and almost awestruck eyes as he took in the sight of his older brother.

Gabriel had died, he had felt it the moment it happened since it caused a rift in the air that many angels had felt throughout the heavens. But now it was different. Gabriel was actually here, alive, and apparently unhappy and unimpressed with Castiel's decisions from the past two years.

Castiel had gone too far, reached far beyond what he should have and actually left Gabriel feeling disappointed. Castiel could see this, right through his stony, honey colored stare, and he found himself actually quivering in his shame.

Gabriel was one of the very few angels that he trusted (even with all the pranks and jokes), so much more than many of his brethren, and if Gabriel managed to be disappointed in him regardless of all the shameful things he had ever done, that told him a lot.

Castiel immediately wanted to apologize, but didn't get the chance to. "Gabriel─"

Gabriel simply plucked him in the forehead hard, getting an "ow" in response before Castiel realized what he had done. The archangel had done it not only to tease him and tell him that he was none too happy with his recent extracurricular activities with the King of Hell, but also to heal him, which Castiel had immediately noticed since his face was no longer contorted in pain, cuts or bruises. Even the stitches that Dean had put in were gone.

Castiel didn't know what to say, whether to apologize or to ask him how he was even alive now or the half dozen other questions he currently had ringing through his head. He had many in fact, probably more than he could care to count, but Castiel found his tongue tied down and couldn't mouth a word. Instead he focused on one question and one question in particular, hoping to God that he would get the answer he so desperately wanted.

"Am I seeing things?"

"I don't know bro, you tell me. _Are_ you seeing things?" Gabriel didn't even sound like he was teasing, his tone serious and firm like it should have been with an angel of his rank. Gabriel obviously had some questions of his own, and deep down he knew that Castiel understood the double meaning behind his question. "You really overreached. You know that right?"

Castiel didn't even say anything, didn't know if he could if he wanted to, and instead turned to look down in shame at his brothers words. Castiel already knew that, was well aware that he had crossed the line in his desperation to defeat Raphael, and he was more than paying the price for it. He was still paying, and would do so until the end of his days.

The room stayed pretty quiet for a while after that, the brothers continuing to just stare at each other until one and the other broke it. Gabriel didn't want him feeling anymore uncomfortable than he was already feeling, and decided to simply push it all aside and drop the matter, for now.

"It's nice to have to back bro. Try not to get yourself killed again this time."

Gabriel patted him on the shoulder as Castiel's brow furrowed at that last statement. He actually found irony in those words considering that Gabriel had done the same against Lucifer, and if there was anyone who needed to be careful of getting himself killed, it was him. Castiel didn't get a chance to rebuttal however, as Gabriel walked away and back over to the study, his movements being tracked by every pair of eyes in the room as he made his way over to Crowley.

The demon simply continued standing there, watching his new (and quite surprisingly unexpected) ally approach him and bob his head as if to indicate that they needed to talk. In private of course.

"Walk with me, talk with me."

Gabriel stepped out towards the hallways before disappearing, the demon following just behind and disappearing as well, leaving everyone else to simply be stranded right there in the room.

* * *

><p>"So, any news on your end yet?"<p>

"None my friend."

"So what, you thinking…false alarm or something?"

"I don't think so. There'd never be a false alarm on this, not on _this_." Crowley answered seriously, raising his signature glass of scotch to his lips as both demon and angel sat atop a rusted pile of cars just outside the edge of the yard. "You should be asking your brother if he has anything. He was once the pawns guinea pig for a second there. I'm sure it's left some sort of mark on him."

"If it has he won't remember. His memories are too fuzzy. I've already seen it." Gabriel paused, recalling some of those memories and almost cringing at them. It only had him feeling more disappointment. "Cas has forgotten a lot but that doesn't mean those memories have just been wiped."

"No, they're buried, and we need to find a way to get to them."

"The thing is I don't think I want to." Gabriel stated seriously, knowing that Castiel was going through a rough time and that bringing up the full extent of those memories of the past two years would more than likely kill him. He was obviously already hanging by a thread.

"We may not have a choice."

"I know that but, I don't think I need to tell you. You've seen it. Cas isn't a hundred percent and I don't know what to make of it. He's just…" Gabriel stated simply, licking at his bottom lip and heaving out a sigh as he tried to put everything together. Something else was going on, something deeper, and that something was the one thing that Gabriel couldn't put his finger on. It was frustrating to say the least. "He's not all there. Like a piece of him is missing and it's impossible to find. His health is declining."

"And soon so will his mind if he doesn't get help. The problem is finding out what's causing it, besides the obvious of course."

And if Crowley didn't sound so concerned for the former angels wellbeing at the moment, Gabriel would have almost forgot he was a demon.

"I don't even know where to start."

And if Gabriel didn't sound so broken, Crowley would have almost forgotten that he was still an angel capable of smiting his ass to ashes with just a snap of his fingers.

It only proved to show how much had changed.

Crowley simply heaved out a sigh of his own, downing the rest of his drink before tossing the glass onto the floor, watching the pieces break apart and shatter as it hit the ground. It only served to remind him just how fragile everything was.

Gabriel was obviously worried, knew that with God out of the picture that they were bound to be fucked over a thousand times over, and that actually scared him. Earth wouldn't be the only plain affected. Heaven and Hell would gets it full dose of chaos as well if the worst ever did actually happen, and the last thing Gabriel needed was the ultimate Armageddon happening now. He had lost enough already. He didn't need any more on his plate.

"We're screwed aren't we?"

"Most definitely my friend." Crowley whispered, sipping another conjured glass of scotch before putting it down on his lap. He knew that he would need a few more before the end of the day, considering if there was even going to be one. _Way to stay positive_. "Most definitely."

The atmosphere around them just felt absolutely ominous, and neither one knew where to even go from there.

* * *

><p>The two eventually returned back to the house after checking in with their sources, both demons and angels looking into the matter of the ultimate evil possibly rising and keeping tabs on it. Both sides had come back with nothing, which was frankly both relieving and not reassuring for either one of them. They had a war on their hands, one they were sure was just bound to show up over the horizon, and neither side was ready for it.<p>

Demons and angels had never gotten along, not in all the centuries that they had coexisted with each other, but should the inevitable come to pass and both found themselves needing to battle it out against the ultimate life taker, neither side would have a choice. It was time to start pushing feelings aside, and start working together.

_Who would have ever thought._

After chatting it up for just a bit with the hunters and explaining why the demon and archangel suddenly found themselves on the same side, Sam, Dean, Bobby and even Claire started asking questions in which they barely got any answers.

Gabriel would shrug them off while Crowley simply dodged them, both explaining that nothing was concrete yet but should anything be, that they'd be the first to know. That wasn't enough for them, Dean being the first to ask of they should be preparing for a war or another apocalypse or something of the sort, getting nothing but frustrated glances in return.

That didn't even help the feeling already wrenching in his gut, and Dean actually felt himself almost starting to shake. He was on edge, and if a demon and angel suddenly found themselves actually working together without wanting to duke out on each other first, then you just knew that shit was going to start hitting the fan. In every sense of the word.

"You've got to be kidding me. You mean to tell me that you can't tell us _anything_?"

"How about 'Go get 'em Team Free Will. You are _so_ screwed'."

"That's not funny Crowley."

"I'm not trying to be funny Dean."

"So how about you trying acting like it? !"

"Alright guys that's enough." Gabriel interrupted, his nerves already on edge enough along with the hunters and everyone else in the room, the three of them sitting down amongst the chairs in the living room while the others stood standing around propped against the wall or the rest of the furniture.

Castiel had already disappeared upstairs and had gone back to bed, Gabriel insisting that he still needed to rest after learning about his latest ailment and putting him to sleep. In actuality, he didn't want Cas listening in on their conversation and put him out to guarantee so, the archangel still not completely sure about everything that was going down and needing a minute to put it all away first.

This obviously had everyone else on edge, but still he insisted that there was still yet nothing to tell, so there was nothing to worry about. Nobody bought it though, not even him, but the least he could was keep telling himself that until he believed it.

"I promise you guys that if there's something you need to know that you will know it, but as of right now we have nothing solid. I don't need to create a panic for something that may or may not even be going down."

"Gabriel that doesn't help us." Dean said, his emotions starting to bottle over his fear and threatening to spill over. He was getting scared, and everybody knew it. Only because they were starting to feel the same.

"He's got a point." Sam butt in, shifting himself off the wall and approaching the archangel, his hands wrung tightly in front of him. "I mean, you're not even telling us what it is that we should be watching out for. You need to clue us in, or at least give us something."

"That's because there's nothing to watch out for kid. Not yet." That was the most honest answer he could give right now, considering it was the only one he had.

Sam didn't even bother to argue, and instead simply put his hands in his pockets as he thought it over.

"Well then," Crowley sighed, biting down on his lip before adding more fuel to the fire. Seriously, his optimism really wasn't helping. "When the Trickster ain't laughing, nobody's laughin'."

"Well that just sounds delightful. Way to lighten the mood there dick."

"Dean," Claire chimed in, suddenly appearing beside the hunter and giving him a sorrowful look. She knew that he was nervous, could feel it showing right through his soul, but also knew that whatever was happening was out of their hands right now and they would just have to accept it. "I think we should trust them. They wouldn't lie to us if there's something they thought we needed to know."

"The girls got a point Dean." Bobby added, also walking over to them from his spot in the corner, arms crossed against his chest before dropping them to his sides and shoving his hands in his pockets. "If we got shit hitting the fan then we've got nothing to do until it gets here. That's what we've always done and we've come out on top every time."

"With causalities." Dean added, immediately thinking of Ellen and Joe and everyone else they'd ever lost over the years. The body count was far too high to even think of anymore, and it was obvious that Dean was still dwelling on that.

"It's war son. When aren't there going to be causalities?"

And if Bobby didn't sound so wise at that moment, Dean would have probably already started giving up.

* * *

><p>The rest of the day had been spent uneventful for the most part as both the demon and archangel took their business elsewhere and dipped.<p>

The next few days had been just as quite, the hunters taking random trips to hunt while Castiel and Claire stayed behind at Bobby's and kept him company. Castiel had now gotten nothing for weeks, the former angel regaining much of the health that he had lost and looking almost new as time passed by. Claire still kept tabs on her mother and assured her through Josephine that she was alright, and she didn't know how much longer it would be until she returned home.

She still felt like she needed to be here, as if something in her heart told her that something big was coming and that she needed to prepare. Needed to be ready. She told no one of course, thinking that it was just nerves and paranoia that was getting to her, but she knew better.

These were feelings you couldn't ignore, and she chose to dwell on them until the time came.

Everyone else felt the same, but of course ignored it all as they continued on with their lives. Everything was calm right now and there was no need to start getting antsy or nervous. This was an opportunity to enjoy life for it was actually peaceful and held tranquility, and none of them knew when that would be interrupted. They were bound to get something they knew, but for right now, everything was just fine and dandy for the most part.

Things were actually looking a little lighter and good, which was always the time for life to start handing them shit.

It started with the nightmares, which led to sleepless nights, which started to take their toll and had Castiel questioning his sanity. He thought that the worst was already over, but it apparently was just the beginning for him.

That's when the voices started.

**To Be Continued…**

**Authors End Note:** Sorry it took longer than expected to post this chapter but I found myself rewriting it over and over again until I was satisfied with it (that and work got in the way again, go figure). I felt like I was giving away too much at first, and then I wasn't giving away enough, and then just taking the story in a whole new direction without even finishing with the first. So now, we have finally met with the point here and I will just leave it at that. *evil grin* As for those asking whether or not Balthazar will be making an appearance in this story, you'll just have to wait and see. :P Also, no notes from me for this week's episode "Shut Up Dr. Phil", simply because I didn't watch it (until tonight and that was until I lost the video halfway through damn it). But I will certainly not miss the next episode "Slash Fiction", and that's only because Crowley is back. Holy moly! Okay, so that better mean that we'll get to see some Cas soon if they're already bringing back the King of Hell. Hopefully, we do see my favorite angel. Very, very soon. *sigh* I know, I know he's dead but I'm still in denial and I want to continue living in my bubble where he still exists darn it! Reviews feed the muse, so do it please?


	18. Chapter 18

**Authors Note:** On a light note, vampireluvr15, a response to your review about the presence of Crastiel in the last chapter (cause I just had to do this to clear things up for everyone else, but you can view it as you want if that's what you like lol); uh…D8…_**No!**_ LMAO! XD I just had to re-read the whole thing, look up what UST actually meant and remind myself that you always tend to scar me lol. But to answer the obvious notion, there was NO way, shape or form of Crastiel _anywhere_ in there (I so DON'T ship that). And if there was, SO not my intention sweetie lol. (And yes, I'm pretty sure you already know who will be getting the angel in the end; just NOT like THAT in THIS story lol) And I don't think I even need to say it about Gabriel and Crowley. ACKKKKKKK! And your brain being beyond recovery about the fight scene, WHAT ABOUT MINE NOW CAS DARN IT! WHY would you put THAT in my head? ? ? *cringes awake from the seizure I just had; and goes back to seizing* XD Anyways…*ahem* that was fun lol, and definitely the humor I needed. My friend, I'll give you a little mild Destiel fluff here to hold you out on since you've obviously been looking for it and you deserve it, but that's it girl. No mas! ;P On a more normal note, hehe, I love you guys and thanks so much for the alerts, favorites and reviews again. Always puts a real smile on my face. *cheeky grin*

One more thing in unrelated and random news and I'm done I promise,*deep breath* I FINALLY KNOW SOMEONE PERSONALLY WHO WATCHES SUPERNATURAL AS MUCH AS I DO! He may be a 43 year old man who acts half his age and a co-worker of mine who got his son addicted to it, but STILL, holy jeebus lol. Okay now I'm done. Onto the story. ;D Shit that was long…haha.

**Written:** 20 October

**Soundtrack:** Paradise by Coldplay, Anthem of the Angels by Breaking Benjamin, Sleep by Poets of the Fall

**Word Count:** 3800+

"_And thus consider ye throughout all ages, that none that put their trust in him shall be overcome."_

Maccabees 2:61 – The Bible (King James version)

**Chapter 18**

It began with his dreams, the significance of them being anything but at first until things started changing. Much had been changing as a matter of fact, for one thing he was no longer falling ill or needing any form of reprieve for declining health. If anything he was pretty much normal, but what had been a few weeks of actually having peace and quiet from any and all forms of torture was soon starting to unfold into a nightmare.

It started in a conversation with Dean after he returned from a rather disappointing hunt, the two sitting out on the porch one sunny afternoon when the hunter firmly promised him that he'd always be there from now on to help him when he needed it. The statement came very much out of the blue, but so did the words that he heard right after.

_He's lying…_

Castiel nearly flinched, the voice passing only through his ears and apparently unheard by Dean as he turned around to see if he heard it again. He didn't, but the look of uncertainty and slight hint of fear got the hunters attention quick.

"Cas? What is it man?"

In the end he lied, and claimed it to be nothing.

He heard it again that very same night. He was lying awake in his room at two in the morning, watching the clock change numbers on the nightstand beside him as each minute dragged by. He didn't want to sleep, afraid of what he'd see or hear if he did, but apparently whatever wanted to taunt him wasn't repressed in his simplest moments of unconsciousness as it once used to.

_You know he doesn't care about you…_

Castiel shot up, a harsh shiver running down his spine as fear suddenly consumed him. There was that voice again, the one that sprang through and told him all his doubts and dreads. He kept imagining it he thought, the idea that someone was speaking to him from inside his head just absolutely and irrevocably impossible. It just _wasn't_ possible.

_Stop lying to yourself…_

"Stop it," he whispered harshly, his breath starting to catch in his throat as his anxiety grew. He was losing it, but kept fighting to keep himself together. It wasn't real, he thought. None of this was real. "Leave me alone."

_You don't want me to…_

"No. No, no, no, no, no, no, no. No! **NO**! I said stop!"

_I can't do that Cas. It's never gonna happen. Not _ever_…_

He heard the voice laughing now, the chuckle sounding so much like his own when the Leviathan had first pushed through from his vessel and had tried killing Dean and Bobby back where he had first opened Purgatory. Where he had first let them loose. It couldn't be them, not anymore at least, he was _certain_. Certain that they had gone and their entire existence with him had been a nightmare. He believed that. He _had_ to believe that.

"Get out of my head."

_No_.

"Get _out_ of my head."

_No!_

"GET OUT OF MY HEAD!"

_NEVER!_

"DAMN IT I SAID **GET OUT**!"

"Cas?"

He flinched, snapping his eyes open and breathing heavily as the bedroom suddenly came into view.

"You okay?"

He hadn't even noticed that he was now doubled over in his bed, hands clasped firmly against his temples and nails digging into his scalp, his ears covered. Dean was at his door, his body peering halfway through and seeing the state that the former angel was in. Castiel quickly dropped his hands, his eyes locked with Dean's own as he slowly approached the bed.

Castiel just heaved out a sigh, pressing his fingers into his eyes and then raking his hand through his hair before finally settling back down. His gaze now remained on his hands, his mind spinning and hearting drumming through his ears as he mentally told himself that it was just a dream. A figment of his imagination and nothing more. That was the _only_ thing he could tell himself, to make it feel real.

Dean carefully sat down on the edge, watching his friend trying to keep himself together as he rubbed at his face, trying hastily to clear away the sweat that had formed on his brow.

Dean's face was hard, firm in its usual façade of care and concern. Cas was hiding something, and he knew it.

Castiel tried to ignore it, clearing his throat and rubbing the back of his neck before untangling his legs from under him and lying back down on his side against the pillow, facing away from Dean. He didn't want to see him, didn't want him to see that he had just literally gotten into an altercation with himself, and the last thing he needed was the hunter questioning his sanity.

He was doing that enough already for the both of them. That was scary enough.

"I'm fine Dean," he said, sighing again as he closed his eyes and tried to sleep. He got no answer in return, only a subtle movement as Dean slowly got up and readjusted the covers already draped over him, pulling them over his shoulders.

Castiel felt his chest starting to tighten in nervousness, but didn't have any choice but to lie to him. Dean was worrying, this much had pretty much been obvious, but Castiel felt like he didn't have a choice. He couldn't even be sure if it was real anymore, and the last thing he needed above everything else, was worrying Dean.

He simply let him be and headed back towards the door, taking one last look back before leaving.

"You know I don't believe you right?"

Castiel didn't even answer him, and simply shifted a bit before relaxing once again against the mattress. Dean took that as his answer and his cue to leave, and did just that, but not before taking a last quick look around the room and finally walking out.

The angel heard the click of the door as it shut, and drowned out every other noise that creaked afterwards.

He didn't sleep at all that night.

xxx

The few weeks after Gabriel's visit and Crowley's beat down had been more than just a little awkward. In actuality they were downright uncomfortable. Everyone except for Bobby thought it in the best interest to keep Cas out of the loop about the possibility of a new "Big Bad" crossing their paths, but in the ended folded and understood their concern. There was nothing solid, no apparent evidence to support anything, and the last thing they needed was piling more on the former angels plate and increasing his already toppling stress levels. Their own could use a break too.

To get away from things Sam and Dean hunted, traveling through small towns and big cities and taking care of any and all possible monstrosities in one go. There had been one hunt that had gone horribly wrong, Dean allowing himself to get distracted and having their prime victim become a causality in the blink of an eye. He had chosen to take a break after that, not wanting to sulk but also needing to cool off and get some air.

It hadn't been easy for him, the young teenager being the last remaining survivor of her family in a bloody vampire massacre, and had now been caught on the wrong end of their clan leader. It was over before he could even blink, the vampire snapping her neck and hanging onto her lifeless body as she slowly and painfully died in his hands.

Needless to say, Dean couldn't remember a more violent outburst coming from him in his life.

They packed up and went home after cleaning up, Dean remaining quite the whole way why Sam tried to ignore the uncomfortable silence. Dean didn't even have music playing, which only worried him more.

They were a day out of Sioux Falls when Sam had finally had enough, and all the issues he had been bottling up for the past few weeks were finally about to spill, and there would be many to count. He had been waiting for this, and it was only time that he finally take their biggest issue off the table.

He wasn't looking forward to it, and frankly, neither was his brother.

"Dean." Sam watched as he ignored him, popping open a beer in his hand and downing half the contents in one gulp. He was already getting ready to shut out half the conversation, and would mentally do the rest. "Dean it's been two months already. When are you gonna stop being pissed off at me?"

He didn't even take a second to answer him, obviously still peeved and sour about the whole thing.

"Uh, never."

"Look I already said that I was sorry, how many times do I have to say it until you can just let it go?"

"You lied to me Sam," he growled, his anger starting to flare as he recalled when and how he found out that he was keeping secrets from him, _again_. "You knew what the Hell was going on with Cas and you didn't tell me a damn thing."

"I was _pissed_ _**off**_ Dean, I already told you that. But I'm over it now. I already forgave him for all the crap he did, why the hell can't you forgive me for not telling you one little thing?"

"He was dying, and you knew, and you didn't even have the _decency_ to tell me to my face."

"Dean I didn't know that. I knew about the souls leaving a mark but I didn't know that it was actually killing him."

"Yeah right."

"I swear it," he shouted, the stern look on his face almost convincing him of his honesty but his doubt erasing it otherwise. Dean wasn't buying it, and wasn't sure if he actually could. "She never told me about that Dean. She never said that he would die from it. Not ever."

He actually saw right through him, could see that Sam was actually telling the truth and felt bad about it, but that still didn't change the fact that he had lied to him and kept a secret. It still bothered him, only because Sam already knew the repercussions of what could happen when they weren't honest with each other, and it only served for him to simmer in it for a while.

Dean said nothing, keeping his mouth shut as he downed the rest of the beer and threw the bottle in a thicket of tall grass.

He didn't need this right now, but it was obvious that Sam needed to get this out now, and so he did.

"You're still pissed off at him for crashing the wall around my head, but you've already forgiven him too. Why haven't you told him?"

Again, Dean didn't even answer, and focused instead on his feet as he dug his hands deep into his pockets. He was still seething about it all, but his brother did still have a point. Dean had forgiven Cas for it all already. He just didn't have the courage to tell him yet.

"I already know the truth, and not just the one you're not telling him. I also know the one that you're not telling yourself."

Dean just looked up, staring back at his brother as if he just grew another head or tail. He slowly lifted himself off the hood of the car and turned around to face him, Sam remaining where he was as he stood his ground.

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm not stupid Dean. I see it coming from both of you. I'm only wondering when the hell it is that you're gonna acknowledge it."

Dean didn't even dignify him with an answer, and instead put the remainder of his things into the trunk and hopped into the driver's seat, turning on the engine as Sam made his way over to the passenger side and got in, disappointment clear on his face. Neither one said a thing as he put his foot on the gas and drove, the two of them ignoring each other as Dean popped in a tape and blared the music all the way.

He didn't need this shit right now, not when he had all the other shit on his plate to deal with already. Of course, Sam always had him thinking differently. It was only his job to tell him things he already knew, only to serve as a reminder.

"I just wished you'd stop lying to yourself."

Secretly, Dean was starting to think the same thing. He prayed that he could, but didn't know if he actually had the strength to.

xxx

They had gotten back in good time, Sam immediately heading over to find Bobby as Dean went in search of Cas. He found him on the back porch where he usually liked to be, and carefully sat down next to him as he stretched his legs out and relaxed.

Neither one said a word to each other, basking in the quiet peaceful day as Castiel listened to the wind against the trees and the birds whistling throughout the grounds. Even as a human he still felt like he could hear them, the spirits that traveled through the air and gave life to the elements of nature as they reigned around them.

It felt beautiful, peaceful and all connected to him as he focused on the whispers they gave.

Dean simply sat there, taking in and grasping at the glory that Cas could feel. He never understood the need of such basic things and feeling their 'spirits' as Cas had put it, but decided to just give it a try and focused. It wasn't very hard he found, and soon enough he had drowned everything out and felt like the world was suddenly dancing around him.

It was strange, different, and Dean felt like it had actually been there in front of him the whole time, embracing him around and all over, but he had never taken the chance to actually listen or care about it. It felt extraordinarily open and carefree, and dare he say it, happy.

He found a small smile starting to form on his face as he felt his skin start to soak up the rays that dulled over them both, and he found himself not wanting to move from that spot. Right beside his friend who had just as equal a smile on his face, a look of peace and tranquility all over him.

Dean knew that he was trying to listen, hearing the whispers traveling in the wind and taking note of what they said. Dean would never be able to understand, not like Cas once used to so naturally, but at least he could try and savor that feeling, just because his friend was. It didn't seem silly to Dean anymore, just…real.

It was all that was real.

"I guess I know now why you're always doing this."

"It's nice to do this sometimes Dean. It helps you to understand the world around you. The ones many of you don't even care to listen to."

"True that."

Dean stayed silent as he watched a pair of birds in the large tree in front of them, the oak taking up much of the front of the yard and posed right in the middle of a huge bed of flowers. Dean never cared to pay attention to it before, but now he was starting to wonder why he never had in the first place. There had just been so many distractions, but now he was seeing them as excuses, and decided then and there to start listening more often.

It wasn't just this, but everything else to, and felt his smile growing wider as he contemplated this fact. Who would have thought, he mentally told himself. He couldn't help it. The thought alone was scary, but actually brought him a great deal of cheer.

He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt that.

"Now I get why you tried so badly to save it for us. Why you gave such a crap about it." Dean softly chuckled, which actually had Cas tilting his head as if in confusion at his reaction. He had never seen Dean act like this before, and he began wondering what it was that he was actually seeing. What it was he heard. "Man I should have figured that there was something else out there besides what I already knew. I just never cared to listen."

He looked over to him smiling, Cas' face looking between thoughtful and confused but also glad, as he took in the expression on the hunters face and actually smiled wide himself. He had never seen Dean like this, and it actually had his chest leaping.

"It wasn't just you I saw Dean. It was everything. All of my Father's creations. They were _all_ worth saving, and you especially."

"I promise to be there when you need me Cas. I don't want you to think that you can't come to me for any reason again. I just want you to know that."

Castiel said nothing. He didn't know what to say as he listened to the hunters words and took them in.

It felt strange, like a deep scarring wound finally healing, the need to let go of his guilt finally lifting and blowing away into the wind. It felt so surreal, so natural, but still so unclear and even frightening. Above all though, it was what he needed. He could finally let it all go, but the moment he felt the need to do just that he was hit with something sinister, something that could take it all away and tear it all down.

That voice told him otherwise, that Dean's intentions were false and untrue and unworthy of belief.

He turned around to see if something was behind him, his face suddenly dropping as he listened to what it said.

Dean noticed his change in demeanor, immediately grasping onto his arm and asking him if he was okay. Castiel quickly snapped out of it, watching as his friend took in his agitation and concern and trying to pull him out of it. Dean now looked worried, his own concern bleeding through his eyes as he took in the anxiety hiding behind his.

Castiel didn't want to worry him, and before he could stop himself he answered, lying to Dean and assuring him of his intentions. It was yet another lie, and one he was sure didn't really need to be said.

"It's nothing Dean. I'm alright."

Dean didn't believe him, and he didn't need a voice whispering in his head to tell him that.

xxx

The next several nights had been spent the same way as the first; sleepless, tormenting and taunting, the voices getting louder and louder as their frequency in disturbance continued to increase. Castiel couldn't sleep, didn't want to if he tried, and found himself growing increasingly frustrated as more and more time passed and every hour kept him awake.

He couldn't take it, his fears and nightmares getting the better of him as he dug his head in his hands and shut his eyes tight.

They kept whispering, telling him hurtful things of doubt and uncertainty that they knew would have him questioning, have him asking himself if it was true or if it was real. He couldn't take it, the need for affirmation becoming too strong as he fought hard to keep it all at bay. He needed to know, needed to ask, but again his fear consumed him and he curled up in shame.

He had once been a warrior for God, one of the most powerful defenders of Heaven, and here he was losing himself in simple teases, awful notions, and painful memories. He didn't know where to start, and began wondering when it would end.

He was so focused on his thoughts that he hadn't even heard someone come inside, his tiny whimpers echoing through his lips as he tried hard to keep them contained. They were clawing at him, every fear he had ever known mocking him through taunts and bullying that he couldn't even repel. He just wanted them to stop, but he didn't even know where to begin.

He didn't know where to even turn.

Dean slowly approached him, reaching out a hand to settle on his quivering shoulder and squeezing on it gently.

Castiel opened his eyes, dragging away his hands as he peered to look up at bright green eyes staring back at him. He felt pathetic, so much like a frightened child needing to be held after having no one care for them since being born. He felt his face burn in shame as he looked away, and felt his body flinch slightly as Dean started to pull away the covers.

Castiel couldn't watch him, keeping his eyes burning in one spot against the wall as Dean carefully propped himself under the sheets and right beside him, slowly pushing his way into the bed and covering them both. He shifted only a little to make himself more comfortable, bracing an arm around his back and pulling him towards him, causing Cas to push his arms into his chest and against his, his hands cupped just below his chin. Dean then pushed his other arm under Cas' head, using it to pillow his and draw him even closer until they were practically pressed together.

Castiel didn't want to move, feeling the calm embrace of his friends support and chasing his fears away with simply just a gesture. Dean was probably crossing a line, a personal one that he himself would never admit to even drawing or dividing, but didn't seem to care that much as he held onto him.

Castiel was obviously scared, which only got him to worry, and finally decided to do something about it for fear that he never would. Dean carefully breathed out a soft sigh, watching as Cas simply closed his eyes and pressed his forehead against his chest, as if trying to get closer to him without making it too uncomfortable for either of them. Dean didn't seem to care though, at the very least not showing it, and only tightened his grip around him as he encouraged him to sleep.

Castiel breathed out his own sigh of relief as he drew himself in further, Dean's heart practically beating against his head as he ignored everything else around him. All he needed was a little reassurance, a little bit of calm and reprieve from all those who wanted to cause him harm. All he wanted was a break, and it was Dean who was there to give it to him.

"It's okay Cas. Just go to sleep."

Castiel didn't even need to be told twice, and immediately let his bone weary mind finally drift off. The voices of yesterday were silenced, and were soon fallen on deaf ears.

If there was any doubt now that they were right, Dean had only just proven them wrong.

**To Be Continued…**

**Authors End Note:** Fluff overload I know, but that's what you get after the angst my brain has been giving and getting. :D Anyways, review of this week's episode, for one, happy to see that I was on the spot about the Leviathans able to find out everything about the Winchesters from Cas' memories. So I did have something canon in this story. Awesome! It was one of the earliest chapters before the premiere aired I know, don't remember which though lol. Plus I referred to the souls and not the monsters, but eh, whatever. Hope that doesn't mean that SPN will start being predictable. D8 (Yeah right lol, the season 6 finale proved that shit) Anyways, the episode was good and had me laughing in some instances (holy crap Bobby kissed a girl!) lol, so I was very much satisfied with it. I like how they keep mentioning Cas throughout the episodes in some way, shape or form, so it's enough for me right now to hold out on until he finally comes back. (And he will damn it!)

Also, I'm gonna start tackling the Leviathan and Legion more within the next couple of chapters, and after watching the movie 30 Days of Night, the monsters there have officially become my ultimate Leviathan. Gruesome I know, but damn perfect in my mind. :) I know this story will definitely surpass the chapter count of my longest story so far "Prayers" and if this keeps up, in word count too. I actually look forward to that. Anyways, I'll stop talking now since I'm sure I've said _more_ than enough lol. Thanks again guys. Review please?


	19. Chapter 19

**Authors Note:** Alright people, we're gonna start nearing the climax of this story so get ready because there's only a few more chapters left, possibly no more than 5 or 6 until we reach the end. (That is if I don't leave a cliffhanger now that I've stumbled upon some more juicy Revelations material). I think I've dragged this out long enough hehe. Thanks again to everyone who has stuck around and supported this work in every way possible. I can't have gotten this far without you guys. :)

**Written:** 29 October

**Soundtrack:** Rebirthing by Skillet

**Word Count:** 3900+

"_A fool finds pleasure in evil conduct, but a man of understanding delights in wisdom."_

Proverbs 10: 23 – The Bible

**Chapter 19**

_It was almost time. A few days left at the most, if everything went according to plan. They had been preparing for this for over a year, silently and patiently waiting for him to grow and strengthen and generate. Much time and effort had been taken to assure his survival, to guarantee success in his birth, but their perfect source was now starting to falter and they knew that it wouldn't be much longer. There was only so much that could be taken from him, so much power they could gather, and by the time it was over he would be gone, drained, defeated, perished. By then he would no longer be needed, and they would have what they had come to want from him._

_Their master would finally awaken, and would bring with him the ultimate wasteland._

* * *

><p>Tensions were at an all time high now, and it was only just starting to be felt.<p>

Gabriel had decided that enough was enough and that upstairs had to be let in on the situation once and for all. He hesitantly chose to go up there himself, leaving Josephine to continue listening out for any news from the Pit if necessary. He made it there rather quickly, surprising himself as he saw that he actually still remembered the way to Heavens highest courts and their most sacred chambers. It had been so long since he'd last been here, that it felt almost like another lifetime entirely since then.

It might as well have been, considering how long he had been gone.

Nothing looked to have changed, and he slowly made his way through the temples endlessly long hallways, the white granite marble on the floor and columns on each side lining it perfectly with exact precision. He found himself at the main hall of the building, making his way slowly to the ceiling high white and gold plated double doors in front him where he was sure stayed the angels that he needed to see.

It would be a surprise for them all, but then again, he was all about surprises now wasn't he.

He slowly worked up the nerve to find his courage and dove right in, walking up to the doors as they slowly parted ways and opened at his presence, revealing the bright chamber inside and with it, the angelic council of the judges of Heaven.

Gabriel slowly made his way inside the large room, the doors carefully closing right behind him as he stepped through. The shelves surrounding the circular walls were completely covered in leather bound books, and marble statues of angels lined every column. The large open oculus above them allowed light to bask into the chamber, shining down directly at the judges platform situated right in the middle of the far wall, the most important of his brethren sitting amongst its chairs.

Gabriel didn't even know where to start, feeling so out of place as he slowly approached Heaven's high council of seraphim. His unexpected return to Heaven was immediately spread throughout the plain, and news that he was there to deliver an important message now had everyone on high alert.

What else could he say rather than the fact that news obviously still traveled fast around here.

Gabriel found himself clearing his throat as he moved toward the group, the high court of eight six-winged celestials along with twelve others standing on either side of them watching him intently as one unit as he walked closer. He had never felt more uncomfortable in his life, but he knew that now was not the time to get stage fright and carefully made the rest of his way towards them, stopping just feet before the chief angel who was seated in the middle.

"Gabriel. You surprise us with your presence."

The first and highest angel there, holding the name of Seraphiel spoke first, his fire red eyes peering down at the archangel as he was addressed amongst him and his peers.

"Yeah well, what can I say? I'm still 'The Messenger' even if I've been outta the office for a couple millennia."

He really did try not to sound so joking, but even old tricks tended to die hard sometimes.

"You address the chief of our phylum so mockingly?" Another angel spoke, this one sitting just to the right of the main and bearing the name Jehoel. Gabriel remembered him from his fledgling years, and needless to say he and said brother still had hidden issues amongst each other from those days. But those were issues that would have to be tackled for another time. He had more important business to attend to than silly sibling quarrels. "You are fortunate that _we_ do not smite you where you stand deserter."

"That's not necessary I can assure you brothers, sisters." His eyes moved throughout the eight thrones in front of him and over to his sides where the other seraphim stood beside him, six on each side, their eyes still locked solely on him. "I have a message to give you, and it's one I'm afraid that cannot be taken lightly."

Gabriel's stance suddenly changed, his hands slowly drawing themselves from out of his pockets and out in front of him to lace together. Each angel took in his gesture, and prepared for what the archangel had to say.

"Do I have permission to speak?" He asked, his tone almost solemn but serious nonetheless.

After a moment's glance amongst themselves, the twelve seraphim on the floor looking up to the eight for confirmation, Seraphiel slowly nodded his head and allowed Gabriel to continue. All eyes were back on him, each angel remaining still as they stood at attention and open to listen, each with their hands grasped by the wrists in front of them. They could feel the atmosphere growing more electric with each passing second, and Gabriel decided to just get on with it.

"I don't know how to say this," He paused, taking in each one of their faces as he bit on his tongue, wondering if what he was doing was actually a smart move or not. He didn't want to start a panic, but he didn't want them to be left unprepared either. It was literally do or die time. "We may have a new threat coming on our shores brethren, and this threat is far older than any of us in all existence. Even older than the first angel. I don't think I need to tell you that there are creations are Father made, before he even thought of any of us."

"We are aware." A female angel by the name of Cahetel said softly before tightening her expression at him. "Please, do tell us this threat in which you mean if it is so important that we must know about it."

"Well I think you're gonna be hearing a lot about it sooner than you think, especially from downstairs."

"You mean, Hell?"

"Yes Seraphiel. I do mean the stink pile where our least favorite of you is spending his summer vacation unfortunately."

Murmurs quickly started to erupt amongst them at the mention of the Morning Star, even fewer between the lower twelve who also started to grow questioning looks on their faces. Obviously Gabriel had touched on a subject that was still quiet sensitive for them, even after all these centuries.

They also knew that if the archangel was receiving news from the basement then that meant that he had to be getting it from someone there. Another unfortunate checkmark against his record.

None of their kind were currently assigned within the flames, with the exception of Michael and Lucifer of course, but that still didn't explain how he even knew what was unfolding behind the curtains on that plane. It may have been their job to assure and prevent travesties from those who had fallen from occurring on them, but if there was anything they hadn't been made aware of, they almost always certainly found a way to discover it before any real damage was done.

Failing at this was simply out of the question. Above all things.

The whispers were soon interrupted as one of the twelve snapped towards Gabriel and turned their attention on him, this female angel being one of the middle seraphim that went by the name of Elizael. She chose to step just out of boundary, if only to help clear the tension now growing amongst the shaken chamber.

"Tell us Gabriel. What is this threat that you seem so deemed on speaking to us about?" She turned to face the eight council, who promptly stopped their quiet bickering as she spoke. "Forgive me for addressing the situation out of turn, but I do believe that he may have something far more important to say than a just a simple harmless rumor."

She once again turned to Gabriel, her glowing red eyes softening a touch as she spoke.

"After all you did return Home to warn us of something if it wasn't anything but. Even with your dislike of how certain things are handled here, I doubt even you would allow travesty to befall us brother. So please, tell us what it is you feel we should know."

She once again fell back in line with her brethren, face still turned towards him along with the rest of the group now.

Gabriel felt his top lip twitch as he cleared his throat, praying that he would ultimately be wrong about the whole thing but not willing to take the chance. With one last sigh and a quick look upwards he spoke, carefully deciding to choose his words before he said them. Like he thought, it was do or die time folks. So start panicking. One simple word was all it would take, to do just that.

"Legion."

Silence struck them all as he stood there, his face showing no form of deceit as he waited for their reaction. What he got was nothing less than what he expected, which was a massive outbreak of sh─.

"This is an outrage!" Jehoel erupted, standing quickly from his seat and slamming a fist on the podium in front of him, the other seven looking up at him and taking in his words as the younger twelve looked on with a mix of determination and dismay. Clearly he had managed to make them uneasy. It hadn't been his true intention, but he did otherwise expect it. "That _name_ is never to be spoken in these chambers. You should very well know that son of God and I will not condone it in our presence. You are out of line Gabriel."

_Sigh. Screw this proper manners crap._

"I'm not trying to get your panties in a twist alright. I'm just saying that we might have a problem heading our way and _he_ just so happens to be _it_."

"How _dare_ you suggest such a misdeed. Such transgression! Legion had been put down like the dog he is, and no being, evil or not can break the will of God once it has been thrown at them. That…_abomination_, is **no** different. He is _not_ all powerful."

"Neither is God, or did you forget that he isn't immortal?"

A string of gasps erupted at his words, and Gabriel almost felt like punching himself at letting those words slip. He was gonna get it now.

"Why you LITTLE─"

"_Hey_."

"Calm yourself Jehoel." Seraphiel ordered, snapping his voice directly at him as Gabriel was distracted currently with the insult bouncing in his brain. He still couldn't help that it bothered him after all these millennia.

Seriously, it's not like he had a _choice_ on his vessels height geez.

"Let us hear what he has to say on the matter." Seraphiel said calmly, putting a firm hand on Jehoel's forearm and forcing him slowly back into his seat. Jehoel refused to move his now angered gaze from Gabriel, and Seraphiel soon joined him with one of his own, but much softer and more open minded than his. He was willing to listen to what the archangel had to say, even if his second in command did not. "Why do you bring such matters to the table Messenger? Why do you discuss with us this creature which has been forbidden to walk this universe by our own Father? Surely you know that his rebirth is impossible."

"I don't think it is anymore." Gabriel answered truthfully, his eyes suddenly growing sad as he really wished he could keep back what he had to say next. There was no chance at that however, and chose to speak truthfully. It's not like he could hide his thoughts from them anyway. "Ever since Castiel first released the Leviathan from Purgatory, his resurrection might very well be possible now."

Gabriel felt his stomach drop as the room suddenly burst out in harsh whispers and unkind words, some towards the creature of sin and others towards their now ominous fallen brother. Castiel was now a disgrace in their eyes, a stain amongst the Heavens and a sinner whose name had now been tainted amongst them and their kind. Gabriel actually felt sorry about it, but that didn't justify the actions that had been taken. Castiel had made a mistake, and he knew that he had paid dearly for it.

"His name is not to be spoken here either Gabriel. You must be made aware of that now."

"I understand brother but he did with the purest of intentions, believe it or not. He wasn't given a choice by Raphael when he decided to restart the apocalypse."

"Raphael was a fool and so was he for thinking that he could oppose him. Both have received their just punishments and will continue to do so long as the matter remains open." Jehoel snarled, his clear distaste for the fallen angel clear in his voice.

There was mixed reaction from them, but Gabriel noticed that most seemed almost saddened, fewer almost angry, and only one being blank, this being Seraphiel. Gabriel felt like a hole had been drilled into his gut at the mention of Castiel's out casting, but he expected nothing less at the matter and simply let it go.

"Yeah well I didn't come here just so you could talk crap about Cas okay. I'm here to give you guys a heads up and let you know what may or may _not_ be coming."

Gabriel was clearly angry now, watching all their blank faces as he rose his voice and addressed them now. All were pretty much silent and still except for one, the female angel who had spoken before furrowing her brow ever so slightly and twitching her lip as she heard her brother's name in such a strange reference. Never once had she heard it used in such a gesture, but chose not to ask about it for fear of disobedience or possible repercussion. It was obviously a human custom, and Elizael chose to simply drop the matter from her mind altogether as she stood back at attention along with her file. There were more pressing matters going on, and all others would have to wait.

Gabriel could tell that she was secretly a more open angel amongst them, only when it came to her curiosity of course, but didn't need any more trouble on his plate and chose too to drop it then and there. Like she thought, there were more pressing matters to attend to.

"Look, I'm not saying that it's inevitable. I'm just saying that it's possible. This guy might be rearing his ugly head to us soon and we need to be ready. For all our sakes."

"How do we know you are even speaking the truth?" Cahetel asked, clearly still unconvinced of the situation and wanting more guidance and insight on the issue.

"I have a source. One that's been looking into it for me and whom I'm working with to find out."

"Who is your source?" Seraphiel asked, clearly unfazed at the situation unfolding and needing more before he made any decisions to make a move. This was what he did best, and what he wanted before above anything else was the safety of his brethren. They had lost many over the millennia, and he did not wish to lose more in something so foul and tasteless.

Gabriel _really_ didn't want to answer, but frankly, he had no choice in the matter. He had taken a solid oath to be truthful to the council, and this unfortunately could be no different. He was so screwed. _His cause might as well have been too._

"It's a demon," he sighed, his hands now back in his pockets as he stared at the floor and heard the jousting of words he was now getting aimed at him. Clearly they were not amused at what he was confessing, and chose then and there to voice their shock and dismay.

"You trust a demon to tell you such blasphemies and you believe it! How dare you Gabriel. Shame on you and your ways." More shouts erupted amongst them as Cahetel spoke, her own anger flaring at the very thought of his alliance with a fallen one. Good thing for him they didn't know which fallen one. He would have really been fucked six ways to Sunday. "You trust one of them even after Castiel did the same and committed such treasons. How can you stand to do the same after you've seen what such actions did to him."

"I don't have a choice okay!" He snarled, looking steely eyed at them and instantly quieting them. "This demon is connected, knows everything that there is to know about what's going on with the worst of the worst and unfortunately he's the only guy I've got to get my answers from. Don't you get it? There _is_, no one else."

He heaved, his own anger and stubbornness shining through as he tried to control himself. He knew that his brothers were dicks, but even he had to draw a line in the sand when it came to ultimate douchiness. Gabriel was the king of ironic and poetic justice, but this was just complete crap on their end. He was going to get them to listen, even if they didn't actually care to.

He simply stood there quietly, trying to dull the tension in the room to a degree before speaking up again. He had only one last thing to say and decided that he would leave after that. He didn't need to deal with the politics, and decided to leave that to them as was their unfortunate responsibility. Good riddens.

"This is _far_ bigger than any of us can even dream of, even think was possible, but it _is_ possible now and _we_ need to see that. This isn't a joke guys and even I know that this isn't something to laugh at, even if I am the biggest joker around here." He paused, hoping that he would get his point across. It would be the last one he'd give before he ultimately left it to them. "I don't find any of this funny. I'm actually fucking scared right now, and so should all of you."

Each remained simply sitting or standing there, taking in the archangels words very carefully. The Messenger of God meant business, and they needed to heed his words, and his message.

"This is serious. Probably as serious as it's ever gonna get. And we need to be ready. We need to get prepared, like now. I don't care of you don't believe me at this point because you'll get your proof soon enough, but I am begging you, please. Don't be stupid and ignore my warning. Something is coming and you need to be ready. To face it head on. We are _fucked_ if we don't." Gabriel paused as he took in each one of their looks. They were hearing him, but he could only pray that would be listening. "You can forget Heaven, or Hell, or Earth, or the whole damn universe if you want. It doesn't matter. All that matters as that you understand what I'm telling you is real, and it is _not_ something we should take lightly. We need to be prepared for battle, even if the cost is higher than any of us may ever see in our lifetimes."

Again the room erupted in hard whispers, the angels conversing in murmurs as they discussed the matter amongst themselves. Gabriel had said more than enough and chose at that moment to turn around and walk out, hoping that he had gotten his message across and would not be fallen on deaf ears.

He looked back at Elizael for a brief second, the seraphim slowly nodding her head to him in return as he reluctantly grinned at her and made his way out the chamber doors. Seraphiel simply watched him leave without a word, his eyes now locking on Elizael's own as she stared him back, a silent communication falling between the two as the others simply spoke in denial.

They would not want to move on with the situation, but the two of them thought otherwise.

* * *

><p>Gabriel couldn't be more than happy to get the hell out of there, making his way back down the endless white corridors and empty hallways as he made his way out of the temple. He was greeted with empty space and endless clouds as he descended the stairs, his presence suddenly being joined by another as he cleared the last step.<p>

It was nice to know that he actually had an ally upstairs to rely on, even if he didn't have many to begin with.

"Seraphiel will heed your warning Gabriel. As much as the other council members refuse to believe it he will not take this lightly. We will be looking into it."

Gabriel actually turned around and smiled at her, even went as far as grinning widely to show her his appreciation. He figured a curveball was appropriate for this time too. He had almost forgotten how much exposure to humor the angels up here lacked.

"Thanks Ellie. I knew there was still some angels here that hadn't lost their use for common sense."

She simply furrowed her brow slightly at the gesture once again, hearing her name being used so casually and out of line that it almost insulted her. Before she could even ask the reason behind such practices she was interrupted, another presence quickly joining them and leaving her to return to the chambers.

Gabriel turned around towards the white stoned garden path, seeing Josephine standing right before him with a look of seriousness on her face. Not that she didn't always have one on that cute mug of hers, but this one actually looked downright important.

"Gabriel. We have one."

The archangel didn't even need to ask what she was referring to, his face dropping in disbelief before he disappeared with her, their play in this impending war suddenly taking a turn, and for once in their definite favor. They would actually need it.

…

Meanwhile downstairs in the Pit, another entity was fast approaching completion and those who worked towards his birth concentrated solely on their next task. The deed was almost done, and the last thing they needed was to simply bend the will of one certain angel. The task wouldn't be easy, but in the last few months their efforts had gained them some ground, and they were more than certain they would able to cover much more. There traps were already set. All they had to do now was sit, and wait.

_They had done so much already to rip him apart. Now, it was time to break him._

**To Be Continued…**

**Authors End Note:** So yeah, my muse is pretty much going crazy right now with throwing me new ideas for my first verse, adding the final touches to the second, obviously finishing off this story and already starting with the torture of my first collaborative piece "Even Angels Can Bleed", so yeah, brain pulling me in a million directions right now. It even has me coming up with a couple of one-shot ideas, one chilling hurt/comfort and one cutesy fluff based baby fic lol. I'll try not to get too distracted for you guys. This chapter at first was going in one direction and then in another one entirely, so I just decided to scrap the whole thing and start over, hence the delay in update. I'm rather satisfied with how it ended though and I hope you are too. The next is already halfway finished so should be up very soon. Reviews are love so feel free to drop one please. :D Also, best part of tonight's episode in my opinion was when Ellen told Dean off about not telling someone how much it really hurts. Dean has to face the reality of his guilt and loss, and if he doesn't she'll kick his ass beyond the grave. You go woman. Hoorah! XD


	20. Chapter 20

**Authors Note:** Second time in a day that I write a chapter for a story and the beginning pretty much starts with a cup of coffee. Hmm, I think this means I need to go for a coffee run after this. Anyways, enjoy this juicy bit of drama. Sh** will start picking up from here.

**Written:** 04 November

**Soundtrack(s):** Comatose by Skillet, Monster by Skillet

**Word Count:** 3200+

"_And he said unto me, My grace is sufficient for thee: for my strength is made perfect in weakness. Most gladly therefore will I rather glory in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me."_

Corinthians 12:9 – The Bible

**Chapter 20**

Castiel hadn't felt so well rested in what seemed like ages, and couldn't feel more than grateful for Dean's support the night before.

He knew it had to have been uncomfortable for him, if not a _little_ awkward, yet the hunter told him nothing and refused to move the entire night and well into the morning as he slept. Castiel couldn't feel any more than grateful, if not happy.

The voices had been getting louder, more frequent and less unstable than they had been before. He had to keep telling himself that they weren't real, but not even he knew how long he would actually be able to convince himself of that until he finally broke.

…And it was only just starting.

Castiel sat at the kitchen table, his hands held loosely around the warm cup of coffee in front of him while Dean sat across, already downing half of his second cup. Both of them were slightly on edge, they could feel it coming from the other like a permanently linked connection, but neither wanted to voice it to the other. They were either too damn scared or just damn angry, but surprisingly, it wasn't even towards the other.

Castiel was just too exhausted mentally at the moment, and slowly picked up his cup to drink down some of the black substance still sitting inside it. He never could get used to the idea of coffee, the bitterness and strong aroma of the liquid just unappealing to him as he drank, but at least it helped distract him a little from everything else currently plaguing him.

It still surprised him how such small things could still do that to him.

He put it down after just a couple of sips, the now lukewarm drink tasting rather flat and frankly, just plain nasty. He would never tell Dean, but Bobby always made coffee _way_ better than he ever did. Dean was a master at hunting, but he still had much to learn about making a decent cup of joe.

Dean finally downed the rest of his mug and looked over at Cas, the angel still staring down blankly into his own cup. Dean didn't know how to approach the situation any other way, and decided that the only way was to go it the usual method, by just going with it. His idea was that it just made things less weird, most of the time anyway. Experience told him that.

"So, you're hearing things huh?" Dean wasn't even gonna ease into it either. _Damn it_. "Things like what?"

Cas said nothing at first, still staring blankly into his coffee as he studied his reflection. He hoped that if maybe he looked at it hard enough, he could probably disappear into it. Dean looked to have caught his intention after just a half second of thinking about it, and the only thing it reminded him of was when Cas had first disappeared into the city's public water system and disintegrated when his vessel could no longer hold back the Leviathan.

That was one memory he didn't need reminding of, and sure as Hell wasn't gonna let Cas put it back in his brain above everything else.

"Hey!" Cas' head shot up at Dean's voice, the hunter giving him a steely look before softening back down and staring at him.

Castiel wanted to feel uneasy, knowing that Dean only ever gave that look when he was heavily conflicted or annoyed. Cas didn't want to upset him, didn't need to do that above everything else already honestly, and so just chose to simply trust him. That much he knew he could do. That, and the fact that Dean never did like to repeat himself, so he figured that he should probably listen.

"I can't help you if you don't tell me what's going on man. So…fess up. What the hell have you been hearing?"

Castiel almost snorted in response, finding the situation almost funny if not stupid, but figured that this wasn't even a humorous matter to begin with after how it all started out to play in the first place. He simply knew that things were bound to unfold from here, and started telling Dean what he knew. There was plenty he'd like to forget, but there was also so much more that he had to be informed of, unfortunately.

"They're telling me not to trust you. That you can't be trusted, and that I should just let you go. That I should leave."

Dean listened intently as Cas spoke, his words a little soft and careful as if trying to get the tone just right. He hid much doubt behind his voice, questioning whether these whispers were actually based on valid points instead of half truths. Dean simply continued listening, anger starting to boil deep within his stomach as he listened to his friend confess everything that he had heard, all the things he had seen, all the torments he had done. He was questioning everything and all of it, wondering how he could have reached so far without ever looking back. He couldn't understand what had driven him so hard to get him to this point, and now he frankly didn't care. He knew what was real, what he was sure was real, and that was the hunter he was currently sitting right across from.

His friend. His ally. His most cherished treasure and greatest accomplishment. The Righteous Man was someone who could never be recreated, not in any perfect sense of the word. Dean was unique in his own sense, and Castiel, even without his grace to show him anymore, could still feel the soul that he loved the most. There was no denying any of that.

Dean was the most important person in his life now, and he still didn't have the strength to tell him. To confess his deepest secret, and let him know everything.

The two sat silent for a while as he sighed heavily and waited, his eyes now focused solely on the table as he waited for Dean to say something. Anything. He didn't care what the hunter said, shouted or even whispered. He just wanted to hear his voice, just so he knew that he was listening. That voice kept him grounded, probably far more than he actually realized.

He should have figured that he'd get a blunt answer off the bat.

"Well you know they're full a crap right?"

Castiel actually did snort this time and smiled, knowing that that was Dean's way around saying what he knew he wanted to hear: _I'm still here, and I'm still going to be here_. Castiel just shook his head and grinned. It always took a miracle and a prayer for Dean to actually say something heartfelt when it needed to be said. This time was obviously no different. Almost.

"I already said that I was gonna help you when you needed it. I don't need you digging your own grave again to freakin' see that."

Castiel suddenly felt even more grateful. Of all the things he needed to hear, this was probably the most important. No matter how many times Dean hated to repeat himself, this was always one thing he could live with. He may have had to say it a few times more than necessary, but still, it was necessary. These thoughts alone were enough to believe that.

"_Or am I_?"

Castiel looked up, his brow furrowing in confusion as he wondered for a split second why Dean's voice had suddenly changed. He immediately laid eyes on him and instantly felt his blood going cold as he took in the being in front of him.

It just **wasn't **possible.

"Hello Castiel. Remember me?"

He immediately froze, swiftly backing up against the wall of the counter as he stared directly at himself, smiling and covered head to toe in spattered blood. He was dreaming, he had to be dreaming, but he hadn't even fallen asleep. So he had to be hallucinating; he had to be seeing things. This wasn't real. This couldn't be real. None of it was real.

Castiel felt his head spinning, his heart racing, his breaths stalling, consciousness wanting to leave him right then and there. He couldn't deny it. Everything he had done. Everyone he had hurt. All those who he had killed. He couldn't stop. He couldn't stop.

"You do don't cha. I'm the part of you that killed all those office workers. You remember that right? The politician who was abusing her power? You wanted to…what was it? Oh yeah! Teach her a lesson."

He looked down at himself, staring cheekily at the blood that covered his hands and face and was smeared all over his shirt and coat. He saw it as a sort of masterpiece, a perfect work of art that was the perfect example of what he was so very capable of, and he actually found that he liked it. Then again, he was the part that Castiel never thought he had, and couldn't even hide away anymore. Not that it would let him.

"Guess you got a little carried away huh."

His manifestation simply kept smiling, the same evil grin he had sported just before he had locked Castiel out and took over. Poor little angel never saw it coming, but then again, it was only fair that they got to have their own little share of fun, even at his expense. Harboring a human was one thing, but an angel, well, that was just opportunity that you never wanted to pass up.

He slowly placed his hands on the table, staring back at his self through cold weightless eyes and looking almost like he wanted to laugh. He would have never thought he'd end up this way, but then again, Castiel was always too much of a dead weight in his eyes to keep up with. He was better off just being killed, and he would get that from them eventually.

All he had to do, was wait a little longer.

"Did you honestly think you could get away from us that easily Castiel? We're a part of you now sonny. We're not going anywhere. And neither are you."

He slowly got up from the chair and reached out for him, Castiel finding himself unable to move away as he approached. He felt his heart sink, beating in his head as every pulse became a dreaded thump against his skull and throat. He wanted to escape, but couldn't find the will to get out.

Castiel found no way to get out, and began to think that maybe, just maybe…it was finally all over from him. This was how he'd meet his ultimate end, and there was honestly no fighting it.

"Face it Cas. You belong to us now."

Castiel slowly closed his eyes at the stern voice, waiting for the inevitable stealing of everything that made him who he was, what he was, what he once had been. He felt its grasp touch at the skin on his forehead, its icy cold spreading through him like a wave as dark black veins started to collect around his body. There was no denying it now.

They were still a part of him, and he was still a part of them.

_Cas. Cas!_

Fading hands gripped him tightly around his arms, grasping at his biceps and shaking him. He thought for sure that they were finally here to take him away, that this was it. He knew that this would happen. He had been expecting it. All his mistakes, all his sins, they had all come down to this. This would be his punishment. This would be their justice.

_Damn it Cas, snap out of it!_

Castiel tried to listen, wanted to listen to the new voice that now found itself parading in his skull, but he couldn't get himself to focus as this new entity started to drain him. The blood flowing through his veins was turning black, as black as the most evil of evils, and he found that he simply couldn't fight it. He found himself falling into it, and couldn't even find his way back up.

_CAS_!

Something new gripped at him now, his eyes sliding half closed as he felt himself falling. The same person who had been gripping him was now trying to pull him back, clutching onto his hand and forcing it over his own bicep. He felt the raised skin he was touching, sensed the small spark that still hid underneath it, relishing in its familiarity. He wanted to hold onto it, but it felt like it was fading.

Everything was fading.

_CAS WAKE UP!_

His eyes suddenly snapped open as his throat constricted, causing the form in front of him to slowly disappear in a wave of smoke and water, anger clear on its face, the raised lines of black that they had been forming on his skin suddenly tracing away back from whence they came.

He felt his chest rising, the grip that had been around his soul suddenly letting go and leaving behind an icy chilled air. It was letting go, leaving him, its grasp over him fading away and leaving him with a sense of emptiness. He already knew this feeling, but he found himself falling into it even more.

Someone was still shouting his name, screaming it almost, but he couldn't find the strength or willpower to find out who it was. He found the darkness consuming him, and allowed himself to fall into it.

…

The next moment he had awoken was apparently just a few minutes later, finding himself on the floor of the kitchen and embraced in Dean's arms, a firm grip tied around his shoulders and behind his back. Sam was kneeling just beside him, a horrified expression clear on his face just like that of the one Dean now sported. Both men were very concerned, almost freaked out, and Castiel couldn't even figure out why.

He had passed out, his memory going blank for only just a few moments before finally coming back to him. He heard himself breathing, small and shaking to match the icy sheen of sweat now covering his body. He couldn't even begin to explain what had just happened, but this certainly had not been a nightmare, not like one he had ever had. This one seemed too real, and deep down he knew that it was.

He felt himself being lifted off the floor, strong arms still supporting his shoulders and under his knees while another voice whispered to this same person to be careful.

He was being carried, moved from his spot in the kitchen and over to the couch in the study, carefully being laid down on his side as a thick blanket was quickly draped over him. He was shivering, his breaths coming out in shallow hazes as a firm hand found itself on his right shoulder. It was trying to keep him grounded, trying to get him to look at them, but his brain couldn't register it.

He was beyond help right now, and he couldn't even tell them that.

Sam rushed outside to call on Gabriel, hoping, praying that the archangel would hear him and answer. Dean had stayed behind with Castiel, the former angel still taking shallow wheezes into his lungs as his mind continued going blank. He wasn't even listening as the hunter behind him was whispering soft assurances to him, assuring him that he would be okay and that he'd be taken care of.

He didn't even know if anything was even wrong with him, but obviously there was if Dean kept telling him that everything was going to be alright.

He didn't even get a chance to ask as he heard footsteps approaching, another voice now entering the room and asking both hunters what had happened.

Dean's voice started explaining, telling this new person of what had suddenly happened and what he thought was going on. He described the blank look in his eyes, then the veins starting to form over his face, neck and body, the way he acted like he didn't hear him and was just gone.

Castiel tried listening harder but his ears were muffled, brain feeling like a dead heavy weight in his head.

He felt this new person approach him, Dean hesitantly stepping aside as a new set of hands gripped his shoulder and the other slid over his forehead. Whatever he was doing was making things clearer in his mind, fighting away the images and hells that had accumulated themselves and made themselves comfortable.

He was whispering to him, saying something softly in his ear in a language he thought he had almost forgotten. He was trying to give him solace in his words, and he actually found himself clinging onto them. He held it, deep within his heart as the ritual finished, and he was finally laid to rest.

* * *

><p>His connection broke, suddenly leaving him with yet another task incomplete and his master displeased. He tried hiding his shame, knowing that his superior was staring down at him like a useless filth off the floor. He lowered his arms and let them fall to his sides, mouthing the words that he knew they would not want to hear. It wasn't his fault. They had somehow found a way to stop him, and it had been out of his control.<p>

That was all he could say, hopefully so they could give him another chance.

"I'm sorry…but I lost it. I lost the connection."

His superior said nothing, and simply walked up to him as he placed his hands on the alter in front of him. The items scattered on it were now pushed out of the way, falling on a heap across the floor as the summoned tried his best not to look afraid. He was angry with himself, but he knew that it would be nothing like the one he'd get towards him later.

He had failed, and there would be repercussions.

"I can try again. We still have time."

His superior said nothing, and apparently refused to hear another word. He placed his hands firmly on the table, spreading them wide as he whispered menacingly to him.

"You have failed me, for the last time. Our master is still waiting for him to fall, and you can't keep a simple spell together to break him. I have been kind, but he will not be."

Before another word could be spoken he reached, grasping his throat tightly around his hand and choking him, his body smoking up in flames and crumbling into a heap of ash onto the cobblestone floor. His scream hadn't even been heard for more than a few seconds before it went out, leaving nothing but incineration in its wake.

He simply stared down at this nothingness and glared, immediately looking to his left at another one of them who stood there and order him to dump it in the river. They could regenerate if they were able to keep all the pieces, and this time, he would make sure that he couldn't.

They only had a few days left, and he knew that if they didn't get it right that they would all be perished. He rather liked his life, and wasn't willing to let one little angel take it all away. They had worked too hard and had gone too long to end this now. They needed him, or else their master would never come to wake.

**To Be Continued…**

**Authors End Note:** Still got angst on the brain apparently. Lots and lots of angst. Review please. :-)


	21. Chapter 21

**Authors Note:** Well my muse is really being a kicker as of late, having me update spontaneously for all my projects and even starting a new story, which is just angst galore. Thanks sweetie, you get a cookie now. No but seriously, this would have been out a long time ago, but the chapter kept changing since the ideas kept shifting and going from shorter to longer. My bad. :/ And also it was another RED influenced chapter, so I am using repeat soundtracks. Enjoy! :)

**Written:** 06 November

**Soundtrack(s):** Not Alone by RED, Hymn for the Missing by RED, Selfless by It's Alive, Slow Ride by Foghat

**Word Count:** 5600+

_"And be not conformed to this world: but be ye transformed by the renewing of your mind, that ye may prove what is that good, and acceptable, and perfect, will of God."_

Roman 12:2 – The Bible

**Chapter 21**

_If God truly did give a damn about any of them, then how could it have to come this far and He still do nothing? Not even try. Not even help._

_Not even care._

_He couldn't understand it. Didn't want to question it. Couldn't even answer. He had found his place, had discovered a solution, but at too great a cost he slowly realized. It was too late to go back now, the steps that had been taken now long since erased like waves crashing over footprints in the sand. He couldn't see them anymore, and wasn't even sure how he had gotten here._

_At this point in the game, he no longer had a choice. Not that it mattered. It just simply_…happened.

…

Gabriel could only just stand there, listening to the monster speak and taunt him as if he were nothing more than a child and not one of the most fearsome weapons of Heaven. They had their answers, had their ways, had the _key_, and knew all the things unfolding in his head.

He didn't even look affected.

It told had him, _everything._ Everything they had done and all the cruelties he had earned, the pain he had experienced and would continue to do so until the end of his days. It was simply just a taunt, but it was more than enough to make the angel break. They saw it, knew that they were getting to him, and couldn't even care to stop. It even went as far as showing him, and Gabriel just lost it.

_"Face it boy. Your brother's gonna die. And your world's gonna end."_

Gabriel couldn't stop himself, even if he wanted to, smiting him to dust as it chuckled and laughed in pure triumph; so sure of themselves. They were winning, and their side already knew it.

He found himself staring, looking at the pile of ash that lay there as the sounds died around them and were replaced by his heavy breathing, the sounds of defeat flooding from his eyes. His optimism had now been replaced by pure utter hopelessness as it all came crashing around him in, and he realized now what it all meant.

They were lost, not just them but everyone. All of them. Every last person. Every last _life_.

Gabriel found himself caving, unsure of where to go or who to turn to, what to hold onto or even if there was. It was over. It was all over, for all of them, and Gabriel started to wonder, how it had even taken so long for him to even see it. There _was_ no winning this. Not with what they had. Not with who they had. Not with it all stacked against them.

This was it. _This_, was what he had been preparing for.

He slowly picked himself up, pushing a hand onto the ground as he climbed onto his knees, his borrowed body feeling weary and tired like as he managed to find his footing.

It wasn't getting any easier, to carry this weight, this burden. It was harder in fact, every day that passed making it more difficult and more labored. He was falling, slowly but surely it was happening, and he didn't know how much longer he had to hang on.

It felt like an eternity since the first time, but that was then. Here was now. It was different. This was a whole other reason.

He managed to find his step, making slow calculated movements as he walked, trying his best to hide his fears as well as his shame. Most of all, he was trying to hide his pain. He knew that the punishment would be severe, they always were, but this, this was just too damn much.

He didn't deserve that. Couldn't have taken it. Yet that was what was given, and he found himself growing angry at the idea of it. Gabriel was an archangel, the messenger of God and one of the mighty four, but not even he could have thought of such cruelties. Such punishments. Such agonies.

_Castiel didn't deserve it, and yet he had gotten just what they had wanted. They had him, and there was no stopping it now. They were done, and he knew it._

* * *

><p>Gabriel continued on walking. Just walking, leaving the darkness of the demons lair in the need to be alone. He just wanted to feel the light, anything to cure him of his ache, even if it wasn't even possible. It certainly didn't seem that way, not after what he had seen. What he had felt. What they had <em>told<em> him.

He found his hand reaching silently for his chest, feeling the grace pulsing underneath like a heavenly hymn ringing through his vessel in harmonious waves. He would lose it soon, like so many of his brethren before him, he would lose it. But this time, this time would be willingly. This would be his choice.

Next time, next time they could take it, by force if they wanted…

…if there only was, a _next_ time.

* * *

><p>He suddenly heard the screams, recognizing his voice amongst billions of others and finding the need to go to it. It was desperate, honest, overbearing, and frightful. Gabriel recognized it, knew the emotions and soul behind the front, felt the fear it masked and balled up. He needed it, needed to feel what they felt and needed to know what they knew. It was devastating and overwhelming; it was crushing.<p>

"_Sam_."

It was Sam who was calling out to him. Begging, shouting and praying.

Gabriel knew that tone, knew that voice; knew his soul. He was probably more familiar with it than any other, not unlike Castiel was with Dean's. His was so much deeper, so much heavier, so much more thorough and intertwined and complicating. _Those two were so interwoven and connected_…

…_and probably didn't even know it._

He heard him again. Shouting. Pleading. Begging him to come. Something was happening. Something big that was putting him in great distress and even greater desperation to ask for his help so urgently. His mind immediately raced to his brother, to the falling angel, and he went to him without even a blink.

…

What he found when he got there was more frightening than he could have ever imagined, watching his sibling being swallowed by his own mistakes and deepest fears; the Leviathan fighting to take over. They were succeeding. Almost had him. Were going to take him.

_But only if he would let them._

Gabriel quickly put a stop to it, finding his brother too weak and too powerless to fight this by himself. He had his friends, had his family, had his strength and the force of his will, the strongest of them all, but all of this was still not enough. Castiel needed help, and Gabriel found himself watching.

Now was the time to take this chance, even if it ended badly. He didn't have a choice, and so he made it, if only to show proof to himself.

* * *

><p>The room went silent as Castiel stopped moving, the black lines lining his skin receding back into his body and away from his all too fragile mind. His eyes were blank, lips slightly parted, breaths slow over pale shaking skin. He was losing. Without a doubt he was giving up and giving in, and Gabriel found his own self folding, wanting so badly to take over and fight the battle himself. Just so he wouldn't have to.<p>

_Why did it have to keep ending like this_?

He slowly pushed him down, deep within himself so that he could protect him; keep him safe, keep _them_ away. He did it to chase away his terrors. Ravage his nightmares. All his sins. That didn't mean he could keep them at bay, but the very least he could do was try. All Gabriel wanted was for him to try.

He let out a long held breath as his brother went limp against him, the inability to connect to his consciousness completely outside his grasp. It was what was necessary, Gabriel thought. Just for a little while. At least until he could take care of everything. Do what he had to do. Make his preparations.

_All he needed, was some time._

* * *

><p>Dean was suddenly furious, unsure and unaccepted of Gabriel's recent actions. Sure he had stopped the repeat of what he was more than sure was his own personal nightmare, but as to <em>what<em> he actually did had him second guessing it all. Gabriel had stopped it, taken away the evil he now saw coming back all over again, but exactly at what cost was that action taken? _What had he done? How long would it last? Would it actually keep him safe?_ _Would it take all this away?_

Dean wanted answers, and he wasn't going to wait to ask for them. He was pissed, on the outside. Inside, he was fucking terrified.

"What'd you do to him?"

"Dean."

"What'd you do to him!"

"Dean will you relax? He's just trying to help."

Sam grabbed at his brothers arm before he could lunge himself at the archangel, panic and worry still fogging much of his brain. He had reason to fear, the image of watching his friend suddenly falling and having black veins gorge their way through his body still flashing before him and causing his own muscles to freeze.

It had been a long time since he had last seen it, and frankly, it hadn't been long enough for him. Dean didn't ever want to see that again. _Ever_. It only served to regret his actions afterwards, and beyond.

"Gabriel what the Hell is going on?"

"I don't need to tell you."

"The Hell you don't!"

"Dean!"

Sam really did have to restrain him this time, holding him back before he literally did plant a fist into Gabriel's face. Gabriel remained unmoved however, not at all affected by Dean's threats or outbursts.

He did find however the temptation to actually plant his ass on the ground too damn strong to resist and he honestly felt like humoring the poor bastard. He already _saw_ why Dean was acting the way he was, it was quite clear through his soul, and chose instead to just let his frustrations go. For now anyways.

"Dean, just relax." Sam coaxed, trying nervously to keep his brother under control while Gabriel tried to do the same with himself.

Gabriel felt the air suddenly shifting, as the tension in the room started mounting and pluming all around.

Gabriel had told them, swore to them that they would find out everything about the crisis when they needed to know it, and maybe now was the time to actually fess it. If not, they would find out from other sources eventually, and that was something Gabriel didn't want or frankly need. It was more than enough choking _him_ already.

_He had to tell them. Just say it. Fess up. Something. Just effing say it already!_

It was time for them to get their game faces on, all of them, and not even he, a fucking _archangel_ for God's sake, was ready for it.

_God damn it._

They would need to be prepared for this battle. Wholly and truly they had to be, and if any of them were going to live to see next week or even tomorrow then they had better start praying for a miracle. He actually found himself scoffing at that.

_Start praying to _what_ exactly, _he silently thought.

Gabriel didn't want to say it, but even he was losing faith with Him and all his actions. Or lack of, correction. Gabriel chose to make his own instead, and frankly, didn't have a choice. _He **needed** them_.

As much as he hated to say it, he did, Hell they all did, and Dean especially.

He **needed** him.

He quickly got any other ideas out of his head and suddenly decided to just leave the brothers in the dark for just a bit longer. He just needed a little more time. Just a little bit longer. Theirs would come, eventually. It would come for all of them. He just wanted to be ready.

Question was, would he ever. Would Gabriel be ready and willing, for _this_?

* * *

><p>The tension was now turning into anxiety, the three of them on edge and him more so than ever. Gabriel just wanted out. Wanted gone. Wanted to run but didn't even know where he could go, if he could go any place at all.<p>

Too bad for him, he was already nailed down, and couldn't go anywhere even if he tried.

Gabriel simply heaved a sigh, looking as if he was just trying to calm himself and let it go so that he could think a little clearer. Breathe a little easier. Work a little harder. In reality, he was just trying to control the small shakes already racking his vessel's body. He was already deep in it, the last thing he needed (or wanted really) was letting them seeing that he was slowly but surely losing it himself.

That would spell disaster, for them especially. And everybody else.

"Just do me a favor and watch over my brother." He said suddenly, cutting the silence and quickly turning to leave before anything else became apparent to them.

He had an appointment to keep, and the demon never did like waiting.

"Watch over him? He doesn't even look like he's in there!" Dean shouted, finding his own anger as he noted the half open eyes currently sported on Castiel's face, orbs blank and cloudy and lifeless. The only sign that proved he wasn't dead, were the short shallow breaths that passed through his thin frame.

Gabriel had obviously done something to Castiel to put him in this state, and Dean wanted to know why. He wasn't going to take any bullshit answers either, and archangel or not, he was going to beat the crap out of him if he had to.

"You claimed to want to help Cas. Fine. You can do that by telling me what the Hell is going on and why this thing is after him! And what it is you did to him!"

_Ungrateful bastard_. Gabriel _wanted_ to screw with him, but just didn't have the energy for it. He was simply not in the mood, or even cared to give a damn about it. "I don't know yet! All I know is that if your brother hadn't called and I hadn't interfered, he wouldn't be here right now!" Gabriel shouted right back, his façade quickly falling as the terror in his eyes started to collapse and choke him.

They caught it, dead on.

Silence fell amongst them, both hunters just standing there silently as the archangel started heaving, trying his hardest to calm himself and his obvious upset. Dean had touched on something that he didn't yet know, couldn't even dream of, and it was only now that he was starting to see it unfold within him. He could see it, just as much as Dean did now.

Gabriel, again, didn't need them to know that.

"Look, I put him down okay." He breathed, his chest feeling tighter and tighter with each breath taken. "Not just consciously but subconsciously. These _things_, are after him and whatever the Hell it is they just did, they almost _got_ him." He explained, clearly pissed off at such a close call and frankly uneasy with the whole desperate situation.

_Some good these breathing exercises are doing_, he thought on the side. _They didn't work for shit_.

Whatever it was that Gabriel already knew, he obviously wasn't planning on sharing, but both Sam and Dean already knew that he was cracking. Saw it like the light of day. He would be asking for their help, he had to, and knowing their luck, it'd be sooner rather than later. But they had already seen that coming, didn't they?

"What do you mean they almost got him? Cas is protected here." Dean argued, emphasizing the many traps and sigils lining the walls and floor of the house.

They had made sure to make that possible after the entire ordeal a year ago, stocking up on anything and everything they could find and get their hands on. Of course that had been when Cas was God, and then after the whole souls fiasco diminished and they had learned about the Leviathan, all their preparations had been rendered useless. The monsters had learned everything about them because of their friend, through the fallen angel, and after realizing that they would have to go deep underground just to avoid them, they had made sure to make themselves absolutely invisible even on the outside.

It hadn't been easy, but it _had_ been done, out of necessity.

"That's what you think. It's more complicated than that Dean." Gabriel wasn't even going to sugarcoat it, simply because he had no time to. He was already cutting it too close with time. "Castiel doesn't stand a chance against them and he never will! So do me a favor, watch his ass, and make sure that nothing, or no one comes near him. Capice? Comprende bro?"

Gabriel obviously wasn't asking, and he clearly wasn't unfazed either. He was bothered, on edge, and both of them saw right though it, knowing that it took a lot for the archangel to actually get scared and twitchy. This was obviously one of those things that had just gotten under his skin, way deep down, and he wanted to rip it out. He just couldn't for the life of him find where it was.

Gabriel just wanted it to be over, as he so famously wanted with the fight between Michael and Lucifer, but that obviously wouldn't be the case here. This game was going to be playing out this time, and the hunters didn't even know what they would find at the finish line when and _if_, and that was a _big_ if, they got there. He didn't want them to find out either, not if he could help it.

"Wait."

Sam walked over to him carefully, leaving Dean to watch him cautiously as he in turn made his way over to Castiel's side and Sam made his way over to Gabriel, putting mere inches between the two of them. If there were ever a time for questions, this was the time, and only Sam knew the right ones to ask at this point. Dean was still worked up over what had happened, and if either of them were going to offer their help to Gabriel, Sam wanted him to know that there would be a price for it. He would put that nicely of course.

"Something's going on here Gabriel. Something big, and it's something you're not willing to tell us." He had left out 'something big is going on, _with you'_.

"No shit Holmes. Ya think!" He wasn't even going to acknowledge that statement.

"Gabriel, just listen to me." Sam said, acting as calm as possible compared to the tense and obviously nervous angel right in front of him, and his anxious clearly worried brother behind him. It felt like a canyon had formed between the two, and Sam couldn't even tell which side he was on. "Whatever it is, no matter how bad you think it is or it's gonna get, we need your help just as much as you need ours. But we can't do that unless you tell us what it is we need to know. Not what you _think_ we need to know, but actually what it is we _have_ to know. I don't care how bad it is Gabriel. You need to say something."

_That's what I'm saying!_

Sam was firm, held his ground and didn't look away. He wanted to assure him, not just his intentions but his faith, since apparently from what he was picking up from those around the room, he was the only one who had any left.

"You just need to tell us. That's all Gabriel." His voice was now calm as ever, even more so than he thought was even possible right now. At this point though, he needed to be. And not just for him. "Just tell us. We want to help."

Sam simply stared at him, hard honey eyes locked back at soft hazel ones, and the angel almost felt himself folding. As much as he hated to admit it the hunter was right, but this was one game he didn't want them getting into, and one he couldn't afford to lose either. Blood would be shed, an ocean of it, and the last thing he needed was getting them involved and breaking his little brother even further.

Castiel was already hanging on to pieces, a tiny string keeping him together from falling apart. It would _kill_ him if he lost the one thing that kept him that way. His new family, his friends, _their_ lives. If he lost that, then what other hope did he have left.

Gabriel quickly realized, that the answer was none.

"You have no idea what you're asking of me." He whispered, voice cracking and teeth clenched in irritation. It wasn't about him anymore, _or_ about them. It was about everybody, _all_ of them, and about Castiel especially.

His brother had _literally_ opened the flood gates to one of the most notorious and downright malevolent beings to ever walk this universe, and he was getting his castigation for it. He would receive the ultimate punishment, if they succeeded, and he had already gotten more than his fair share. The road to Hell, always did lead from the best intentions.

"Let _us_ be the ones to judge that." Sam replied, trying to ignore the tight jaw and steel eyes of the archangel in front of him. Clearly he wasn't amused or even willing to agree, but at least it looked like he was willing to listen. Sam continued pleading, calmly, if only just to prove his point and help him see their side. It was all about sides now, he noticed. "Just let us help. That's all I'm asking. And I don't mean by playing babysitter. I mean _actually_, help. The last time one of our friends felt like he couldn't come to us, he made a _deal_ with a _demon_. We don't need you doing the same thing man."

Sam simply shook his head slightly as if in amusement, hoping that he could see his desperation in bringing up his brothers actions and where it lead him, but the small smile he held as he grasped onto Gabriel's shoulder quickly faded away, as he took in the look on his face. It was empty.

Sam didn't know what he was seeing, but if he couldn't already read people so well then he could have sworn that the expression he saw on Gabriel's face, was one of turmoil, and regret.

"Gabriel?"

Dean spoke up now, his own concern shining through as he noticed him avoiding both of their gazes. He was ashamed and unmasked, both of them could feel it, and Dean felt the hand currently resting on Castiel's shoulder suddenly tightening as his heart did too. It didn't feel right, not at all, and they didn't know whether to ask or assume. They couldn't even begin to judge him.

"Gabriel? Is there something…you need our help with? Now?" Dean asked calmly, almost as if he was talking to a scared or frightened animal. It worried him just as much, but the archangel was cracking, already falling apart. Dean suddenly felt his own hope faltering as he came to realize suddenly, what it was he was seeing.

They were already too late.

"You already made one. Didn't you?" _You signed yourself away_.

They both froze now, as the archangel tightened his jaw and heaved out a breath through his teeth, trying to hide back the tears that proved his disgrace and dishonor. His face remained facing the floor, but his eyes traveled sideways towards the wall, not willing to show that they had caught him.

Gabriel had made a deal, but he wouldn't be the only one that would need to. Someone else would have to carry the burden along with him, and he was sure that they would never even guess who it had to be.

* * *

><p>Things had really gotten that bad, and Dean found that he couldn't even be angry.<p>

Instead, he felt sorry. Saddened. Depressed. Maybe even shocked. Gabriel had made a deal, and it looked as if, that even _if_ they made it out alive in this one, it didn't even matter for him. Gabriel was already lost in this fight, and he himself, had put him there. Gabriel, was done.

"Gabriel, what'd you do?"

Sam looked just as sad for him, unable to believe that things had gotten that far and that deep that he couldn't even see another way out. Gabriel had sold his soul, or at least the equivalent of one, and he was already counting down the clock to his own personal demise.

Sam braced both hands on his shoulders, almost as if trying to prevent the archangel from going anywhere and disappearing on them. He was silently telling him that he didn't want him to go. It didn't matter though. Not really. The act was a pointless one he knew, and the cause was simply just a lost one.

They were already too late.

"It's too late for me guys," he smiled softly, trying to hide his emotions behind his stupidly foolish façade. "It doesn't matter anymore. It's over and done with."

"Bullshit!" Dean shouted as Gabriel found the nerve to stare at them, the angel quietly praying to himself for what he knew was bound to happen.

Praying for patience had now been replaced with praying for mercy, for how little he could get. He was lost now, and there would be no prayer for where he knew he was going. Hell would look like a paradise in comparison, but it would only hurt a little, just for a little while.

_At least that's what he told himself._

"Sorry boys. But I'm locked in on this one." He smiled sadly, shrugging his shoulders as if trying to make a pitiful joke of it and failing miserably. Sam wasn't finding it funny though, Dean either, and neither one knew what to do at that point.

So much had changed in those past few weeks since he'd been gone. It was obvious now, just how bad things had gotten and how much worse they were going to get. It was so _damn_ obvious, and they had the proof standing in their living room right then and there.

Sam just looked transfixed on him, sad and in disbelief as Gabriel tried his hardest not to look moved at their concern. It was actually touching, not that he would say it (ever). Still, he couldn't help but let out the tiny smile forming underneath when Sam suddenly pulled him towards him, gentle yet hard, wrapping his arms tightly around until he practically squeezed him.

Dean looked surprised, Gabriel shocked, but Sam looked absolutely firm and adamant behind the act. Gabriel had lost it he thought, had finally, _absolutely_ lost it, and if that wasn't proof enough that shit was about to get real now, then he didn't know what was. Sam didn't even care right now, didn't give a shit or rats ass if he looked like a complete and total girl, or the fact that after just a moment's hesitation, Gabriel gratefully returned the embrace right back around the bigger man.

He needed it. Not that he would say it (again), but he needed it. Gabriel was already too far in, too deep and too involved to even turn around and walk back. He didn't have a choice, couldn't find any other way, and he was regretting every second of it.

Gabriel would not survive this war, and it was all because of him. Because of Castiel. Because of all his brethren. Gabriel didn't have a choice. That's all he could tell himself. _He **didn't** have a choice_.

"We're gonna fix this." Sam whispered after just another moment, his own steely voice bleeding through as Dean simply lowered his head in defeat just behind him. Dean didn't have the same faith that Sam did, but if one of them had to have it, Sam carried it for them both. "Do you understand. I swear to you we're gonna fix this."

Gabriel couldn't believe him, not since he knew, but after a moment's hesitation decided simply just to humor him and go with the flow. He didn't want their pity, nor their sympathy or their kindness. He wouldn't need either where he was going, not that it mattered.

"It can't be fixed kiddo. It's already over for me." Gabriel chuckled softly, pulling himself out of the embrace and staring back at him, soldier to soldier, fighter to fighter, hunter to hunter.

They had to understand his intentions. See the field he was actually playing on. Know the stakes that each side carried. All in all it was their world that would shatter and break, but it didn't seem to matter. Things were different. Times were changing. Alliances were forming and evils were collecting. Choices were making themselves known bit by bit, and he had already made his. Gabriel, had made his decision.

Along with everyone else who knew now, he was making them all and all for their sakes. All he needed was a little more time to get things in order. To warn them. To get his brethren on their side. Even if it meant complete annihilation for them all, a weaker army was better than no army. It was the archangel in him that reminded him of that. It didn't matter how small or frail you were in comparison to your superiors.

You could _always_, prove them wrong.

"The only thing I can ask of you two is to take care of him for me when I'm gone. He's gonna need you guys, more so than anything right now."

Silence befell amongst the group, Sam fisting his hands and lowering his head in quiet acknowledgement while Dean tried his hardest to keep his firm façade. Both knew it was pointless. The end for him was nearing, and it seemed that way for all of them. Gabriel took a small step back, taking one turn each to both of them and seeing their true selves. Even behind the masks he saw, their determinations and struggles burned brighter than those he had ever seen before.

Castiel was in good hands, and that was all he could ask for.

"Just promise me that okay."

Sincerity was all they saw in him now, and neither one could turn that away or reject it. Deny it. Refuse it. Gabriel would have his wish, and they would have to grant it. Without a doubt.

"Do me a favor. Catch up on your reading. Look up Revelations, preferably verse 8:30 of the prophet Luke and see whatcha find. You're gonna need to know it if you want any chance in this fight."

That was all he had left them with, and just like that, Gabriel was gone.

* * *

><p>Castiel had woken up shortly after, and Dean stayed behind to watch over him while Sam took his turn to go outside and think. He knew that there was more he wasn't telling, something that he wasn't saying to them, and Sam just wanted to know and understand as to why.<p>

Little did he know that he'd get an answer not long after asking that question.

"Hey kiddo." Sam turned around to his side to see Gabriel, sitting on a short pile of junk cars with hands folded and elbows resting on his knees, his face firm and held strong as if he were thinking deeply and contemplating something. This was different than the Gabriel he had seen just hours earlier, and he began to question how, and _why_. "Were you _absolutely_, one _hundred_ percent up front with me when you said you wanted to help me in _any_ way you can?"

Sam found himself freezing for just a second, taking in his question and then wondering what he could offer. It didn't even take a moment for him to consider it. Nothing could change his mind at this point. "Yes. Yes I did."

_Just the three letter answer Gabriel needed_.

Gabriel took in his response as Sam turned to look at him, searching for a moment's hesitation before jumping off the pile and meeting him face to face. Maybe this kid would be his answer.

"Well alright then."

Before Sam could even ask as to the reason behind his sudden grin, he felt something deep moving within him, a burning light so bright he thought he'd go blind by its sheer will and intensity.

Something was happening, deep inside of what Gabriel was doing that Sam couldn't even begin to understand it.

He felt his chest tearing, strong hands grasping his shoulders as his soul tore apart and something else entered it, making it burn even hotter and brighter. His heart suddenly began feeling lighter, his body burning brilliantly as lips suddenly joined his and something warm and heavy poured down his throat.

Sam couldn't even begin to understand what this was, but it didn't feel pressured or even unsettling. It simply felt pure and heavenly, just absolutely _graceful_. He didn't hesitate, and Sam found himself locking tight and accepting what Gabriel was suddenly giving him. What it was he offered.

_Maybe this, _this_ could be his answer._

**To Be Continued…**

**Authors End Note:** Anybody wanna guess what just happened? Because I know haha. I'll give you hint, for those who have read Saving Grace from MissAnnThropic, you should already know the answer to this seemingly pointless question. And no, it wasn't a chance at stealing a kiss people hehe. ;D Anyways, I don't even know where half these scenes came from with Sam and Gabriel honestly. I can guess, but it just snuck up on me. Heck this whole chapter snuck up on me. Honestly, I don't know where _any_ of this came from, but I know now where it's going and all I can say is get ready for the tissues and the all around brotherly love. There's gonna be a crap load when the battle royale commences so review please. There's only a few more chapters left, so start telling me what you expect to see and make me proud. Also, Misha scavenger hunt tomorrow! Who's ready? ! *screaming* XD


	22. Chapter 22

**Authors Note:** Apologizing in advance if this chapter seems random. I was Skyping, tweeting and FaceBook messaging all at once while also writing it out and some quirky one shot ideas. Was not my intention to share brain space here. Still have no idea where the hell last chapter came from though. I only just noticed how random it was too but made a few tweaks (about 600 words worth if you can call that a few; it does in my world and in my vocabulary). Go figure. That, and I wound up finishing this up in the middle of a Starbucks (before I went back to change some details of course, as usual) in the need to 'borrow' their wi-fi. Simply for professional purposes I assure you all. Now dive in people! It's time our favorite angel take the plunge into…well, read to see what I mean. I'm _pretty_ sure I've dragged it out long enough. *runs away from the mob of pitchforks and fireballs that are sure to come my way*

**Written:** 17 November

**Soundtrack:** This Is Why We Fight by The Decemberists, Never Say Never by The Fray, Surrender by Evanescence

**Word Count:** 12200+

"_He shall not be afraid of evil tidings: his heart is fixed, trusting in the Lord."_

Psalms 112:7 – The Bible

**Chapter 22**

_It started with a deal. It ended with the souls. It would finish with his own, burned away by the light._

…

"So let me get this straight? Gabriel tells us to catch up on some bible reading and…_what_, write a book report on it?"

If Dean could ever be considered noble, this sure as heck wasn't one of those moments to go searching for it. It had pretty much dwindled to the size of a peanut. _Maybe _smaller. Random thought he knew; Sam just went with it (he was pretty sure it was one of Gabriel's and not his anyways), so he satisfied Dean's question with a simple bitch face his way instead. Perfect answer on both their behalf's. _Douche_. "Dean."

"_What_? I'm just saying," Dean snarled back, his hands parting in front of him in the simple gesture of saying 'I don't get it'. Sam didn't even need him to say it, but of course, just to spite him, Dean did it anyway. _Jerk_. "I don't get it."

"I don't either Dean, but it's all we've got to work with right now and we're just gonna have to deal with it. Okay." Sam was starting to understand a little now why Gabriel found his brother to be so annoying. In that aspect however, the archangels thoughts in his head were starting to get a little annoying now too. _Damn it_.

Sam just gave himself a second to breathe, sighing in both frustration and aggravation before continuing to negotiate with Dean. His brother was just a little jumpy and worried and exhausted. That's all. That's all he had to say to himself. Think to himself. This was how Dean dealt with his problems. His issues. His emotions. He put up a front. He made it seem like nothing. Inside though, he was screaming.

"Look, I've already looked up what Gabriel said and the book mentions a verse that lays claim to someone by the name of 'Legion'. Apparently some big badass that God himself had to put down. But that's it. It doesn't really go into a lot of detail. Bobby's looking into what else he can find right now in his texts, even if it's mostly just speculation written by crazy old men, it's what we got. Until then Dean, we _have_ to think this through. _Before_ we start jumping to conclusions."

_Man his brother _was_ a nerd_. Dean just huffed in frustration at Sam's retort and obviously _stupid_ logic. But of _course_ he was jumping to conclusions, he always was (and was allowed to thank you _very_ much), what with their lifestyle and all the crap that came with it.

Dean couldn't help it, and it certainly didn't help matters when he was thinking currently about the Hell that was sure to meet them, as well as their friend downstairs. Dean was in hysterics, worry clouding his every thought and action as well as all his feelings. This wasn't a time to lose it, not when plan 'the end of the world number 3' was at their heels, _again_. Really, Dean was getting tired, sick and tired of it all every time they stopped it and they were thrown another. Dean was just over it, but knew that this time he couldn't take it back. Cas was stuck in this one, which in his eyes, meant so was he.

Castiel had woken up completely disoriented, face twisted in fear and hand grasping tightly at his chest as he fought to take in a breath. Whatever the heck had happened had undoubtedl6 scared him, petrified him really, and not a moment too soon were the two of them at his side trying to calm him down. Sam had been grasping at his shoulders while Dean locked tight on his wrists, trying to keep his friend from hurting himself since he wasn't exactly looking too mentally stable at the moment.

Dean had hesitantly let go after just a minute, letting his hands slide up just a bit to wrap around Cas', who squeezed them back in reassurance as first Sam then Dean coaxed him on breathing. He was obviously having trouble at first, the feelings and emotions of the incident completely shattering his concentration at the seemingly simple task. His body should have been able to do this naturally, but it was like his brain had been detached from everything else. His friends were there however, consoling him and helping him to take in a much needed breath. It took another minute or two, but he finally managed the feat and slumped back against Sam as Dean started talking to him.

They were merely whispers at first, his words only those of reassurance and support as his trembling limbs slowly started to stop their insistent shaking.

Dean kept going, noting the mentally exhausted look in his friends half lidded eyes as he spoke to him, Castiel holding onto every word that left his tongue as he continued clutching onto Dean. He just kept breathing, taking air in deep and slow as instructed to steady his still racing heart. Sam could feel the tension in his back loosening as he did this, the tightly corded muscles finally relaxing as Dean's hands remained in Cas' own.

All Castiel needed was a little encouragement, some guidance, and as 'chick flicky' as it may have been for one brother or the other Dean never dared let go, not until he was sure his friend was okay. Castiel couldn't feel more than grateful for it.

…

They had eventually been joined by Bobby and Claire, just as Castiel had finally let go and calmed down completely in their embrace. One had heard the shouts coming from the former angel while the other felt the loss of connection where he'd been put down by Gabriel. It had been feared that the _absolute_ end had finally come to pass, and it was only then that they realized the true extent of what was to come. It was only just hitting, and it was apparent that it was doing the exact same for Castiel. For all of them.

* * *

><p>Castiel remained in their hands until he was taken downstairs, the panic room providing the only source of safety for the time being until another one could be made or found for him. It probably wouldn't be much, but it was all they could supply at the moment and decided was best.<p>

Dean took the initiative to make Castiel comfortable, naturally, and assured him of their efforts in keeping him safe. Bobby and Claire joined him as well, while Sam did what he could until his own troubles of it all hit him straight in the face and led him outside to try and sort it out. That's when he started praying to whoever the Hell was willing to listen, and got the _weirdest_ answer in return to it.

…

Sam's brain was filled to the brim with nerves and emotions, each one banging around his head like a pinball machine.

The encounter with Gabriel had been an unexpected one, but it was one nonetheless that proved to have a monumental purpose behind it. When it got down to it, Gabriel admitted to Sam that he needed his help, and Sam had offered it without hesitation. He just never expected it to be in the form of how it turned out in the end.

Dean was the first to hear about it the second Sam managed to find his way back to the house, looking wound up and just a little bit light headed and wobbly on his feet. In all honesty, taking _any_ angels grace would do that to a person. But taking an archangels, and one of the main four for that matter, well, Sam was lucky to even be conscious at the moment. _Presumably, they thought that it may have had something to do with the whole 'vessel for the Devil' thing_.

After just a moment to think it through and to get his mind and mouth to cooperate, the younger hunter quietly sat down and started explaining to Dean what had happened. He left out no details so that both of them could get an idea of what it was Gabriel had actually done, or perhaps a solid justification behind it. He didn't even leave out the moment of the abrupt lip lock it took to actually get it down his throat, and Sam actually felt himself grimacing.

That part of the exchange actually _did_ hurt a little, but Sam wasn't willing to complain when he thought of the reason behind it. Again, it was an archangels grace, and Sam wasn't going to let it bother him even if the visual actually made Dean look more than just a little 'ack!'. Needless to say, his brother was pretty much left without words to preach, and looked to Sam for just a little more guidance on the matter, _without_ going into anymore physical details of course.

It was just a little _weird_ to Dean is all. He had nothing against the guy, angel, it, whatever. He just didn't know whether to be worried or frightful, or downright _infuriated_ at the archangel for sexually molesting his brother (his thoughts, not Sam's). He needed to know what else was going down, besides the fact that the leviathan had nearly gotten their hands on Cas, but an explanation from Claire quickly cleared away any more doubts as she calmly explained his reasons.

Being once a vessel for an angel, she had if not an little bit of insight on their thoughts and of their actions, no matter how faded those memories were becoming.

Her logical conclusion was that Sam was now a harbor for Gabriel's grace, or at least for a small piece of it. Being a vessel but also still human, too much could have very much damaged Sam and his soul, ultimately killing him had he not had some form of control over it. She warned him, but Sam didn't even seem to take that into account since he had total (okay so maybe not total, he was still the Trickster first in his mind, but most) trust in Gabriel. It was obvious that the archangel was running out of options, and there was no way he would have jeopardized Sam's wellbeing for his own foolish amusement had it not had purpose behind it. Important purpose. And even then, without Sam's consent.

Dean of course had to ask _why_, taking in the warning more seriously unlike his brother obviously, but Claire merely shrugged her shoulders and claimed that not even she knew a definite answer. Her best bet was that Gabriel needed someone that wasn't another angel to carry it for him just in case something happened, though she didn't know exactly what. Sam had an idea, but voiced none of it to Dean and chose to keep his suspicions to himself.

_Gabriel had used him to make the ultimate trump card, and maybe, just _maybe_, Sam believed that he could be the one to bring him back with it, if they did indeed lose him in the end. It was baseless optimism, but it was still something to hang onto at least._

That didn't make the feeling in his gut any less tighter though.

* * *

><p><em>Gabriel felt a pang of something swelling in his stomach. He didn't know whether it was good or not, he wanted it to be the first of course, but chose to leave the matter aside for another time and worry about it later. He had other things to attend to, and they were his main focus at the moment.<em>

…

Gabriel had never expected this chain of events to unfold as it did.

He had come up with the idea shortly after leaving them, the notion of having someone carry a piece of his grace suddenly becoming a plan and maybe even a solution for his predicament. It was crazy, maybe even suicidal, but it was the best thing he could come with on a whim and he had chosen to bet on it, positive outcome or not. It would be a long shot, they always were, but it would be a chance that Gabriel was more than willing to take.

_He trusted Sam (not a hundred percent but still he did), and couldn't think of anyone else to do such a favor for him. Maybe the big guy wasn't such a bad friend after all. He understood now, if maybe just a little why Castiel rebelled against Heaven for him and Dean in the first place. They may have been callous and stupid and suicidal sometimes, but they weren't heartless. _

They were not heartless. And that, Gabriel knew for a fact. One hundred percent.

…

The archangel was back in Crowley's lab before he knew it, feeling just a little wobbly from his recent last ditch effort and noticing the demon right then and there as he graciously popped in. He saw two of his drones bringing in a sack over their shoulders, the being inside having quite the little fit of protest as they dragged him inside and followed Crowley's orders of taking him to The Room. Needless to say, the demon was granting the angel a surprise.

Gabriel didn't even need to ask who it was that was in it either. He had been _waiting_ for this.

"Brought me an early Christmas present?"

"Well I had to since you blasted the last one to no man's land." Crowley replied, shoving his hands in his pockets and turning around to greet him, noting the hard look on Gabriel's face and returning it with one of his own. It looked to the demon to be a really bad time to piss the archangel off right now. If only he actually knew, it was the perfect moment to do just that. _Motivation is always appreciated_.

"Yeah. Sorry about that." Gabriel answered plainly, lowering his face momentarily to the ground in silent contemplation before his consideration changed and he stared right back at him. Clearly Crowley was trying to help, but it didn't make the fact that he was working with a _demon_ any less easier. Another one of his problems currently. "Actually no, not really."

Crowley took in his silent aggravation rather quickly. Clearly he was still having issues about the fact that he sorta kinda brainwashed his little brother for his own selfless needs and tempting him into sin. Go figure. He _was_ a demon after all. He shouldn't have had to keep repeating that fact.

"Something bothering you? You seem a little…off. Losing your game already are we?" Crowley got no response, other than a deeper furrow in the archangels brow and a tightening of his already clenched fists.

Crowley looked about ready to apologize, knowing that the archangel was simply just worried and mentally exhausted from the weeks many trials and constant tribulations that had been thrown their way.

It was simply just a gesture, one that proved his obvious lack of enjoyment in the matter and one he was sure would come back to haunt him. Crowley already knew it. If the Trickster wasn't laughing, then nobody was laughing, and at this point, they had no reason to.

…

The moments between them were becoming a bit uncomfortable now and Gabriel needed a break from it. Just a small one. But not just from the presence of the King of Hell. It wasn't only that that was bothering him. Gabriel needed something more, a clue that pointed the way to what his heart desired most. To what he wanted and what he needed. A tiny little thing that could finally land itself in his lap and give him an end to all of this. All Gabriel wanted was to prevent a war, and it was all he was asking.

This thought was simply pointless optimism. He already knew that, and he hated himself for it.

Another few tense seconds passed before either one of them spoke up, one just too deep in his mind to care about the void that had formed and the other just too damn heartless to care. Crowley had other things to do, and the angels silent moping was just simply taking up his time.

"Look my friend. I don't need you suddenly having second thoughts or going mad. I need your help in this, just as much you need mine. I'm hoping that that little rant you got from 'Big Bad wannabe' didn't change your mind."

Gabriel didn't answer, simply recalled the words that the leviathan had told him and making his stomach twist even harder. It wasn't yet over, but it was only just the beginning. Gabriel took one step forward and stared back at him, gaze hard and unrelenting and very much like the great weapon of Heaven he was known to be. Gabriel was an archangel. The Messenger of God and one of its greatest warriors, even with or without the Heavenly Host at his back anymore. No matter how many mistakes or how many troubles he saw fit or decided to invoke, one fact remained the same. They were still family. Like it or not.

He was only doing all of this, for them.

"When this is all over, I don't ever want to see your face again. Or I will rip it off. Are we clear?"

Crowley couldn't more than agree, the past few years of working so closely with angels only just starting to drive him near insane. He hated the holy creatures. Felt like vomiting every time he was near one, but only tolerated their presence and the smell out of pure survival. Demons were dead men, angels would be too, but only if the ultimate end was actually to occur. Crowley couldn't afford that in his business market, and so decided that putting up with as many of them as necessary was the only way to go for him so he didn't bottom out.

He didn't have a choice, not that he ever had one to begin with anyways.

"Don't worry, _friend_. I didn't even plan on it. Angels and demons were never meant to get along anyway."

With those final words Crowley stepped out, making his way down a long piped corridor and disappearing. The demon had business to attend to, and frankly, so did the angel.

* * *

><p>The moment Crowley was out of sight Gabriel went in search of his latest spiteful chore, finding the demons recent catch being strapped down to a chair and hood removed as they left Gabriel with the prize. Interrogations were never pretty, Gabriel didn't need to tell himself that, but tortures only made them that much harder to deal with. Having the right motivation however, only made things more straight vision instead of claustrophobic from all sides.<p>

At least, that's what Gabriel kept saying to himself.

He simply made his way forward as they left, closing the door and bolting the latch shut to leave them alone. Gabriel almost felt himself twitching, whether that was from excitement or exhaustion, he cared less to decide at this point. All he wanted was to get started, and get this over with.

_His prize was looking forward to it._

"Well well _well_. They bring in the big guns to get their information out of me. Ready to get started kid? Or are you too chicken shit to do anything like that little brother of yours?"

Gabriel couldn't help but let the thought sink in that this one had quite the ego on him, and he actually found himself almost smiling at the idea of what he was about to do. Again, motivation made the difference. Always.

"I hear they call you Dick. Can I call you that? _Dick_." Gabriel slowly approached him, placing a hand on his shoulder and bending forward to meet him eye to eye. Considering the clock, Gabriel decided not to waste any time. He would need to get straight to the point. "What do you want with my brother huh? Why are you _dicks_ so interested in Castiel?"

The leviathan didn't even try to hide his amusement, not that he needed to. He knew the game already, probably more than Gabriel even knew.

"What do we want? What _don't_ we want?" Dick smiled, chuckling a little bit as he mocked the archangel in front of him. Clearly he was not laughing along, and the monster acted as if the being in front of him wasn't capable of smoking his ass with simply just a thought. It was a given, but not one he cared to share. "We've already got almost everything we need from that little runt. All we want is the final product and the kid is ours." He smiled smugly, Gabriel twisting his face in anger as the grasp on the man's shoulder only tightened in his rage, causing him to flinch a little at the pain the angel caused.

Gabriel wasn't laughing, not at the moment. He actually found himself having to hold back, his anger turning into a venomous blood rage, just to keep himself from killing the bastard right then and there. He still needed him though. He'd have to wait just a little longer to have that, but he _would_ have it in the end. He promised himself that much.

"You do _know_ that you're not gonna get him right? I'm not gonna let you."

Dick just snorted and chuckled again. "Who said anything about asking for him, half pint? He's just gonna _let_ us take him."

Dick chuckled again and started laughing, angering the angel even more, but his laughter soon halted as the rage grew and Gabriel squeezed him even harder. Obviously, he still wasn't getting the joke.

Dick started grunting, trying to ease the pain in his shoulder and stared back at the archangel with sharp eyes of his own. Clearly Gabriel hadn't grasped on the idea of 'nothing you can do' quite yet, and the leviathan decided that enough was enough. If he wasn't going to listen with words, then he would have to get his understanding through actions alone. There was no way he could deny it then, even if he tried.

"You angels really do think you know everything don't you? It _can't_ be stopped. None of it can. You filthy little beings are finished. So just get over it already and move on."

Gabriel didn't buy that, simply couldn't, and fought against his patience just a little bit longer. All he needed was one piece of information, just one, and then he could kill as many of these sons of bitches as he wanted. Stomp them, like roaches.

Dick could read the angel like a book, and decided to play with him just a bit longer while he waited. Plans were already unfolding. All he needed was a some time. He was happy to provide just that.

"Why don't you just face it son. Your brother started all of this. He brought upon the _ultimate_ end of days, and you think _you_ can stop it? It's already over. We've _won_."

Dick really was living up to his name, and again Gabriel found irony in the fact. Apparently the guy just _loved_ hearing himself speak, and if there was anything Gabriel knew a thing or two about that, it was being in love with yourself. This dude just took it to a whole new level though, and was pretty much just a fuckin' prick and a half. One he was sure to reduce very, very soon.

"Just shut your trap and take it. You're gonna be the bitches now, and we're gonna take you _all_ down. We're gonna walk the earth, and leave you with _nothing_."

Gabriel simply let go of him and stood up, slowly rolling up his sleeves and straightening out his jacket. All he could think of, was that this next part was going to hurt. Not for him though. This, he would _thoroughly_, **enjoy**.

"Not if I can help it." Gabriel replied chastely, finishing up with his preparation and standing straight to stare back at him again. "I've put you dogs down before. The only reason I'm not doing it now is because of my little brother. Once I get what I need from you, I'm not gonna be holding back."

The leviathan said nothing, and simply stared back at him with his own unhealthy stare. He just wasn't getting it, but he soon would be. He knew, they _all_ would.

"You really think I'm scared of you don't you? He's as good as dead. There's nothing you can do to save him. _Nothing_." Dick continued, struggling against the ropes that bound him and getting nowhere. The plan was already far ahead, more than enough for them to finish it. All they needed was that final little piece, and they would have him. "You honestly think that you can? You're already too late. He _can't_ be saved. Not anymore. Even _he_ thought the same, when we used to live in him."

Gabriel slowly took in his words, noting the false sadness in the monsters voice and only serving to cause an even bigger roll of painful bile to circle his gut. Gabriel would keep telling himself that it wasn't the truth, couldn't be even if he tried, but there was only so long he could believe that before it eventually came to a head. It was only a matter of time, and he knew it.

"He doesn't deserve to be redeemed. You know that too. It's all over for him. Learn to accept that, and just let him go."

Gabriel wouldn't buy it. He had too much faith in his brother to do that, and chose to ignore the little whispers in his head that told him otherwise. "Pardon me if I think you're full of crap, but I am gonna prove you wrong."

Dick didn't think so. Simply because he already knew. Did he honestly think that the leviathan didn't see _this_ coming?

"Please. I know what you _angels_ are capable of. We were with Castiel remember? We shared him. Used him. Took advantage of all his memories and circled them as if they were our own."

If Gabriel didn't know any better, he would have thought that Dick was actually confessing to him. Not that it made much difference to him. This one was a dead man, whether he believed him or not, was his fucking problem. All he wanted, was an end to this.

"We know all about Cas. All about _you_. We know the bond you two shared and even then some. I know the guy loves his family but he made a choice. He _chose_ to start this fight, and now he's going to pay for it. For every little misdeed. We _know_ him. We've _met_ him. So pardon me if I'm not afraid, of your threats."

Gabriel actually found himself smiling now, and lowered down to meet him face to face once more.

"You haven't met me yet."

Gabriel wastes no time, and by the time Crowley returns from his most recent affair he finds his temporary home laden with screams. Tortured, agonizing screams.

* * *

><p>It takes only hours, but Gabriel finally manages to get what he wants before finishing the dick off and leaving him as nothing but a pile of ash. He returns back to Heaven shortly after that, quickly cleaning himself up of the sticky black bile covering the front of his frame and staining it dark. He needed to warn them, needed them to know their true purpose and what it was their plans were. They would have to fight, no turning back to think about it now, and it was Gabriel who had their reason, right in the palm of his hand.<p>

Gabriel wiped away the last of the leviathan goo as it started to flake, the sticky substance quickly drying and peeling off his vessels palm as he swatted it away. The deed had been unpleasant, pure and adulterated anguish that not even Gabriel was aware he possessed or was capable of. It had been torture, pure and simple, and he actually found himself gratifying in it as the thought occurred to him. He finally had some answers. Not all the ones he wanted but an answer nonetheless. It was all Gabriel needed, to finally bring his side to the field.

_It was strange how Dick almost seemed to smile the whole time through it though_.

Gabriel found himself at the steps, and slowly went to cross each and every one.

Their plan was not a simple one it seemed as he recalled it. Far from it in fact, and Gabriel actually relished in that idea of time. It started apparently with the rising of their ultimate leader, the help they needed in the one who had released them in the first place. They needed to manifest a body for him to walk in, one that would be able to handle his influence and prevent his instability. The only problem was that Castiel had been their target, his brother taking on the sufferings of their work and slowly but surely dying from it. They were unaware that these episodes of Castiel's illnesses were not just simply random, but an act on their behalf. It all seemed to make sense now, now that he had the whole picture. It was all for the same benefit, the same goal, all to retrieve what they needed from him to bring their master back to life. The leviathan were stealing from him, and apparently all it took was a little push in their direction. They needed but one last thing, and Gabriel was going to make sure that they couldn't even get it. _Now that he knew what it was._

Before he realized it he was back on the main temple steps, sluggishly making his way up the stairs and towards the open garden where he found someone patiently waiting for him.

Elizael was standing there, hands woven together and elegantly held against her lap. She looked graceful, a hidden worry lying behind her eyes and a form of contentment rolling across her lips. She hid much behind her shy smile, but it was still a smile nonetheless. One that the world would need after all of this was over.

Gabriel only hoped, that it meant good news was well on his way as well.

"Gabriel." She acknowledged.

"Elizael." He acknowledged right back.

"I take it you've come to inform us of the situation."

"Is there any other reason that I'd, be here."

Her smile slightly faded as he took in his momentary pause, noticing his sudden need to take a breath. Angels didn't need such practices, and so she wondered why he now found himself needing to do so. This immediately worried her, and she began to see something happening within him. An action that she didn't expect to see.

He then took another, as his eyesight stated to daze.

"Gabriel. Your light. It's fading." She said softly, taking in the now paling complexion of his vessels skin and the sweat that was starting to form on his brow. His hands were starting to tremble, making his posture almost shake strangely. She placed a gentle hand on his chest, feeling the uneven vibrations underneath as his breaths started to hasten. She also felt the sudden shift in his balance, and her hand pressed more firmly. "Gabriel? What's happening to you?"

"I don't─"

He didn't get a chance to finish as his breath started hitching, a slight wave of dizziness swiftly taking over as his head started swimming. Something was happening, much too quickly and ferociously as his vision blurred and his heartbeat raced. He didn't get a chance to respond to her before he felt his knees buckling, the edges of his sight going dark and engulfing him in inky black. That was his first clue that something wasn't right. The darkness taking over his sight actually was, _inky_. All he could think of, was _son of a bitch_.

"Gabriel? Gabriel!"

Elizael swiftly wrapped her arms around him, holding the archangel against her chest and allowing his head to roll onto her shoulder as his dead weight gave in to the poison that was spreading. Something was consuming him, deep and tainted from inside and slowly killing him as it engulfed his very core. She could feel it in his grace, and coiled at how it tried to latch on and devour him from the base. She called out to him, hoping to rouse him awake but got no response in return. It was then that she looked down at his now white stark face, seeing something shift beside him and noting the thin black veins slowly tracing across his neck. Her face quickly grew hard, her fingers tracing over the skin lightly as the inky substance chased away from her touch. She knew already what this was, and felt her own venomous rage boiling deep within her. She immediately braced onto him, her wings spreading wide across her back as she raised them high and flew the archangel away to the infirmary.

This was yet another trick, and one that Gabriel had unfortunately fallen for.

_No wonder he had been smiling, the stupid grin never once leaving his face_. Turns out Dick truly did live up to his name, and had had one last trick up his sleeve to give to them.

"_Like we hadn't seen that coming, silly angel_."

* * *

><p><em>He felt empty, if not a little apprehensive for not knowing the difference between insanity and reality. He found himself in a hole, one he couldn't get himself through or even try to climb his way out of. He simply felt stuck, and the hopelessness that came with it was enough to swallow him completely whole. He had lost all faith, even in himself.<em>

…

_His knees kept shaking, leg bouncing up and down on the heel of his bare foot as he remained seated on the cot against the wall. His chest still felt hollow, heart beating erratically and at an uneven rhythm even though his fear had been reduced quite greatly. He was still scared however, had reason to be after all and it was only now that he was starting to realize what had been coming full circle. This had been the plan all along, and Castiel was starting to fear that he had made the grandest of mistakes. _

_To release the souls had also meant that they got him to let them out as well, and find someone to help them with their long awaited plans. It was him that had given them what they needed, manifest what they wanted, prove to him and everyone else that they were the ultimate monster that time had apparently long forgotten._

_This, was his greatest sin._

_It shamed him, and Castiel knew that he was the cause of it all. The cause of their ultimate end. He didn't deserve redemption. He didn't deserve to be saved. He didn't deserve their trust. Not after all that he had done. How could he possibly earn salvation after all that? How was it even possible, if it truly did exist at all? _

_Castiel found himself staring at the ground, his face buried in his hands as his nails dug lightly into his scalp. He felt his eyes starting to tear, the guilt and weight of it all finally starting to hit him as the rhythm in his chest started to beat faster and even cause him pain. He felt so stupid, so incredibly foolish and ungrateful that he began to wonder how it had even come to this at all. He couldn't see it anymore, the light that used to shine so bright against his features had now faded away from his grasp. It was nothing but a spark now, a shredded piece of himself that he had torn apart and destroyed at the mercy of his own choices. There was nothing left for him now, nothing left to give and nothing more to take, and all he could pray for right now was a sense of peace. He couldn't find the prayer to ask for it though, and went about just feeding on his sorrow._

…

Bobby could tell that Castiel was eating himself up, and didn't hesitate to signal one second longer to the person coming in that the two of them needed to talk. It was important, damn near necessary it would seem, and Bobby found himself quietly rising from his chair and making his way to the door.

Castiel was still very much in his own world, and didn't even notice when the hunter walked in.

His thoughts were interrupted as the new presence in the room made itself known, his head raising only slightly as Dean carefully cleared his throat and walked over slowly, making his way to sit right beside Castiel and his whole bag of issues. Bobby chose that moment to leave, and nodded his head slowly as he finally left the room. They would needed their privacy, and the only witness allowed right now to see them both unfold, would be God.

* * *

><p>Dean had a hard look on his face, one that told Castiel that he had to prepare for a head butt of a conversation, but the tension in his shoulders quickly started to fade as Dean gently released a sigh.<p>

Dean had a lot on his mind, this much he could tell, and if the silence currently engulfing the two of them had anything to add to it, it was that this had been a long time coming and needed to be done. Dean needed to confess, tell him that all was pretty much forgiven and that he didn't need to beat himself up for it anymore. Dean wanted to say that and add so much more, but couldn't seem to find the right words to use as he usually did. So he decided to just roll with the punches, and decided that Castiel would have to pick up on what he wanted to say on his own. He would help him if he had to, but ultimately, _he_ needed to do this.

Dean gave one last long sigh as he breathed, looking over to his friend who still stared at the ground and had his hands pressed firmly against his temples. This was it, his only chance and nothing more, and only time would tell if the two of them would actually be able to get through this. It was like a chasm between them, each one at opposite ends from the other, and it was beginning to feel like a loss. They had to get through this, together, as one and _only_ one. This was what Dean told himself to the fullest. One and only one.

"You know _why_ I worry about you right?"

And if that wasn't the million dollar question. Castiel felt himself tensing more, not expecting the conversation to go this way before a brush of Dean's leg against his own quietly had his nerves rolling back, if only just slightly. He liked it when Dean was near, appreciated the closeness, and felt things were easier when he was around. Dean was calm, clearing his mind fully and letting his hands settle lightly on the edge of the cot as he tried not to show how deep his nails were digging in. Castiel found his own actually softening, but he didn't dare let go, not until he was sure that he wouldn't lose it completely.

"Because I am a burden to you." He said quietly, his mind telling him nothing else as his gaze still met the floor and sharp green eyes tried their hardest to find fragile blue ones. Castiel would be in for a surprise, and he didn't need to read any minds to know that. Dean never did cease to amaze him. "I'm an obligation to you."

_And damn did he sound like he had been convinced that as the truth._

_Dean couldn't even find it in himself to get mad. Castiel wasn't a responsibility first and foremost in his eyes, he never had been, but he supposed it was his fault for never actually telling him this. Or even letting him know. One of his many screw ups he knew. It was true at first that he hated the angel, almost despised him despite the fact that he had rescued him, but as the months came to pass and the two began to share an understanding everything had changed. Dean had never even come to realize it until he had betrayed them, the depth of what he felt suddenly coming to light as he felt the greatest of pains. Denial. Denial for it all and even more, and again he found himself at a crossroads, willing to make a deal just so it could all go away and convince him otherwise. That Castiel had not in fact betrayed them and that was all one big illusion. Dean had tried to tell himself that, but his trip through Cas' memories only proved him wrong._

_It also proved to him, just how much he felt towards him. Towards the angel. Towards his friend. Towards the 'profound bond' that they shared. Dean couldn't even deny it, even if he wanted to. It had proven so much to him, and it was that one thing that he would willing to bet everything on. That trust. _His_ trust._

"No Cas. That's not it."

Castiel actually found his head snapping up to meet Dean's, his hands falling to his knees as Dean's own wove and clamped together tighter right in front of him. He was about to tell Cas something that he should have said a long time ago, but never found the courage to do so until now. He supposed, it was better late than never, and chose that moment to voice it. He knew that he may never get another. It was time to jump ship he thought, with a smile. He wanted Castiel to hear it this time, coming straight from him.

"It's because I…_care_ about you, Cas. Because I actually give a crap about what happens to you and what you're going through." Dean had fumbled with the words, licking his lips as he tried to find the right ones, but it seemed that the true ones would have to wait. For now, he would make so as not have it become to awkward, for both of them.

"It's not because you pulled me out of Hell Cas, which I am, _incredibly_ grateful for by the way, I really am. I know I've never told you that but I am. But that's not the only reason." Even through hard steeled eyes, Castiel could find no doubt in them. Dean was peeling away, his heart fluttering and butterflies forming in his stomach as he told his story and let himself shine, revealing what he hid. It was something he should have done, a long time ago. Right at the moment when he finally, figured it out.

"How you're feeling, what's on your mind, they are all on mine too Cas. You may have never seen it, and I may have never told you but they are."

Dean stopped, taking note of Castiel's stare before continuing. He was being careful, talking gently, being open. From what he could see, the way Cas' eyes started to brighten just a little, he was getting through to him and that's exactly what he wanted. It's what Dean knew was really needed, especially after everything they had gone through in the past four years. There had been so much, but neither one had cared to pay attention.

It seemed like a lifetime ago to him now, but to Dean, they were probably some of the best and most memorable moments of his life. Hell they had been. Even with the end of days. Even with all the heartache and all the suffering and all the loss and all the _crap_ the fact remained the same. Had never changed. And he surprisingly found that he wouldn't change it, _none_ of it, for anything. Cas was still his best friend, betrayal or not. If he could forgive Sam for everything he had done and could be forgiven back for everything else in return, then this should be no different. Family didn't end in blood. Bonds shouldn't have to either.

"I am _always_ worried about _you_, Cas. Even if I don't show it. And it's because you're my friend that I actually care for you. You don't become an _obligation_ that way. Not to me, not to Sam, not to Bobby, not to any of us." Dean said softly and then silently firm as he reached the end, hoping to get his main point across.

All he wanted was for him to listen, just as he was doing so himself.

"You have never been a burden to us Cas, even if you don't think so you weren't. You _became_ part of our _family_, _are_ part of our family and even though we may screw each other over, or want to kill each other, or even jumpstart freakin' Armageddon, _twice_, at the end of the day the fact doesn't change. You're _still_ family. And whether you like it or not you're stuck with us. We're stuck with you. And we're, _I'm,_ okay with that. What I want to know Cas…is if you are."

And if that wasn't the most heartfelt speech Dean had ever given, as sad and scared as it sounded in the end, he didn't know what the fuck was right now.

He waited for a response, anything that clued him in on to what Cas was thinking or possibly thinking of saying. Castiel simply stayed staring at him, the words on his tongue completely falling and finding no voice to back them up as he recalled the same words coming from Bobby all those months ago. Family. He was family. Blood or not it was never just a title. It was an honor, and one that he had only seen amongst the three of them before he realized that there was a fourth. It was him. Never had he expected it but he was, and it only caused his pain to flare even more to the point of wanting to break him even further. To let his emotions falter.

Dean expected a retort, and prepared for one just as well. Finally he found it, but it only served to raise his own confusion, as well as his remorse. Castiel was only hearing him, not listening, and it caused his own shame to flutter.

Castiel still held onto his guilt, and it was one that he was more than certain Dean could never take away, not ever. He looked back down at himself, his gaze focusing on his left pinky that kept bouncing off the edge of the cot in a nervous twitch right next to Dean's own. He didn't know what to say. Didn't know what to do, and couldn't figure out where to begin as he allowed his brain instead of his heart do the talking. _How could he be forgiven, when Dean had yet to forgive himself?_

_It was one of the biggest burdens he carried along with so many of his own. As an angel he felt it, could see it, and his only wish for him to let go. In all honesty, he never even cared or gave it a thought, not until he started to actually get to know him. See him for what and who he was and why he had never noticed. He had come to know the Righteous Man as his Father had intended, and he had wished for him to see him, but in the end it had caused him to doubt and question and even defy all orders. He was a rebel, was made one because of it, and if that wasn't even to prove his self worth than his actions certainly did that. Dean could never forgive himself for breaking in Hell and starting the End, but it was only so big that he could see and so much that he could take. Castiel never even cared, not until he knew him. It had become his number one thought during the entire ordeal with the war and with Crowley. If Dean could never see redemption for his actions when he broke, how could he for his actions when he fell. It was all so familiar and yet so different, because he was failing not only him but himself. Dean tried to let him see, tried to get him to understand that they were in fact the same, but he refused to accept it and took it as it was. He had committed the ultimate misdeed, and for this, he deserved no less than what he got. His rightful punishment, and his inevitable end. _

_Castiel didn't want to be saved, not like this and out of pity. He didn't want it. Because he didn't deserve it. This, he could only tell himself._

He turned to him, noticing the hidden look in his eyes as he tried to find his words. Feelings were so much easier to convey when you could actually use them, but as angel he hadn't and as a human he couldn't. He felt himself begin swallowed, and not even he could save him from his ache. Dean didn't deserve this, not what he felt was a lie, and he chose instead to have him mislead. Dean deserved more than him, and with this fact, Castiel chose it better to let go. _One look at him, had told the hunter everything_.

He should have known better than to let himself wallow, since Dean never liked to look at it, just past it. Another feature he envied him for currently. The act to accept things for what for what they were, even if he didn't like it.

"Dean…everything I did─"

"Is forgiven." Dean cut him off, not wanting Castiel to go down this road again any further than he was already letting himself. Castiel was sinking, and he wasn't willing to let him drown for it.

Dean pulled him back in, was sick and tired of all this and his self doubt, and just wanted to let him see what he saw. Feel what he felt. Understand what he understood. All Dean wanted for him was for him to see the light, one that he himself could provide. He would give him the greatest shock, of all.

"Come on Cas. You can't keep holding onto this man. Someday you gotta let it go. We've all done that already. You're the only one still holding back."

_Dean remained patient, surprising even himself as he smiled softly and tried looking as sincere to him as possible. It actually had him thinking, and it only just occurred to him that maybe, just maybe, he had never needed a reason to forgive Cas in the first place. His intentions had been good, even if his actions had been the worst. But he was still his angel. He was still his friend, and he was only just seeing how much of that was real. How much it really mattered, to everything._

Castiel couldn't see it though, and Dean actually found himself frowning at the former angels next words. Again, there was always a bigger picture to look at first in his eyes. If only he had actually looked at what it was he needed to see.

"But what I did, I can't be forgiven for that Dean. I nearly destroyed everything. I nearly destroyed you. And Sam."

"And you think us jump starting the _apocalypse_ was our idea?" He cut off again, knowing damn well where this was going and not needing to have it be repeated to his face. "Cas you didn't know what those souls were gonna do to you. You had _no_ idea. You can't keep holding yourself liable for that. You have to see that already."

Dean remained being calm, as hard as it was, but found it being easier than he realized as he continued trying to help him see. Their fingers were practically touching now, the electricity sporting between the two almost shifting as neither one wanted to make the next move. They simply stayed as they were, keeping the chasm between them alive.

Castiel couldn't bear it and just looked away, but Dean had finally had enough and grasped his arms, forcing him to turn around and look at him. He was tired of this crap, of all this guilt tripping, self righteous, sacrificial bullshit that Cas had decided to lay upon himself. He wanted it done and over with, just so they could get through it and finally come to terms. And if this was the only way to get it then God damn it so be it. Dean would worry about the consequences later. All he wanted right now, was for him to see it.

"We all get used Cas. We all get set up and we all lose ourselves from time to time. I don't need to tell you that, cause you should already know." He shouted, seeing his friend squirm beneath his grasp like a frightened animal and taking in his harsh words. Dean didn't care though, and if this was the only way to make him listen then he was gonna go at it and just do it. He'd been patient enough. Now he was just angry.

"You saw it when you raised me Cas. The man that I became. The tortures I invoked. The _crap_ that I did. I _still_ haven't forgiven myself for that but at least I'm _trying_. I'm giving myself a chance to _change_ things and make it right!"

Castiel looked up and locked widened eyes at Dean. Dean couldn't explain what he was seeing, but if he didn't know any better, he would have thought that he had just shocked him.

"You need to do the same Cas. I'm not _asking_ you, I'm _**telling**_ you. You need to let it go already and if you can't manage to do it alone then…we'll help you."

Dean's grip softened as his shouts did as well, reaching up from Cas' arms over to his shoulders, hoping to God that the angel was actually hearing what he was trying to say. Castiel needed to hear it, needed to see it, needed Dean to say it so that he could understand. All he wanted were those few, simple words, and he could finally start forgiving himself. _Like he already had._

"I don't want you to feel like you can't come to us anymore Cas. We're your friends, your _family_." He actually felt the grip underneath his fingers loosening, as the tension in Castiel's shoulders started to disappear and be replaced by small shakes. He didn't know what was happening, but he continued on anyway. All he wanted was the truth, and Dean had no intention but to give it to him. "If you need us to help you then all you gotta do is ask and we'll be right there. We're not gonna say _no_, just trust us that we'll help. If I─"

Whatever Dean had left to say was suddenly cut off as Castiel latched onto him, arms wrapping tightly around his neck and face pressing hard against Dean's collarbone. His body was shaking, pained sobs escaping his lips and wetness that Dean was sure were tears rolling down his shirt.

Cas had broken, had finally come to see what Dean had been trying to tell him and what he realized he needed to hear since the very beginning. It had been one of his own burdens that had caused it, and he actually felt his own spirit lifting at the fact. That Dean had forgiven himself, after all the pain he caused he had done it. Dean didn't know where this was coming from, but chose not to let it go.

All Castiel had wanted for him was for Dean to finally lift his own sorrows, and it was the proof he needed to understand his dilemma. To get Dean to understand.

…With this in mind, he could finally, _forgive_.

* * *

><p><em>Castiel wasn't alone, hadn't been if it seemed so, and his new family wasn't going to let him be if they could very much help it. Castiel had already given up everything, had turned on his brethren and hurt his friends and challenged his limits all for the sake of their world and for their lives. Never once did he feel grateful for what he had done to gain it all, but at least now it seemed just a little bit more reasonable if not more easier to deal with. He had never had a friend before the siege, never one like Dean at least, and he couldn't help but think that the pain he had caused him was far greater than one he had ever given or received. Considering even everything he had gone through. It was with that fact alone that he could see things clearer. He could finally start breathing, letting go of everything that had left him as the hollow shell that he now felt himself to be.<em>

_Castiel could finally start forgiving himself, because he had been forgiven. Because Dean had done the same. Because he saw him worthy of a second chance, just as he had done with himself. Dean could forgive himself, which meant Castiel should be able to. This had been a prayer that he had long since wanted. That he could receive. That he could beg for. Castiel had latched onto it, more so than he ever let on, but it was over. He felt it blossoming, his heart, the feel of it souring and flying like he once did when he had wings. _

_Forgiveness was the ultimate weapon in wars, and it would seem, that Dean had finally managed to grasp onto it. He had wanted nothing more, than for Dean to forgive himself. God had finally managed, to answer a prayer._

* * *

><p>Dean simply let go of his shock and moved his own arms around Cas, letting himself fall into the moment and just accept it as Castiel breached his mental wall and let it all go. He didn't know what it was that finally caused it, but he swore to himself that he would ask later once this was all over.<p>

Dean finally closed his eyes and sighed, grasping onto the former angel still trembling against him, crying hard and breath hitching against Dean's neck as the walls came tumbling down. All he could do was hold him, and make him understand what it was he was feeling and truly trying to feel. Dean had finally helped him, and he forever felt, _eternally_, grateful.

"_Thank you."_

Finally, _finally_ after what seemed like an eternity to Dean he looked up, sending a silent thank you to whom he thought would be able to hear it as his own eyes started to water. He already knew, simply through this small miracle, that He had gotten the message. The small smile he felt on Cas was proof enough in his book.

"_Finally."_

Whatever little peace they had managed to get to at that moment however, was soon torn apart.

…

Castiel hesitantly let go, surprising Dean and even himself as he looked down at the hand now resting on Dean's chest and then at his own as he started to feel a trickle of something pouring through him. He lifted up his arms to hold them in front of him, noticing spider like veins starting to spread from underneath his shirt in lighted gold rivulets.

This wasn't like the inky black veins that had appeared on his skin earlier, this one was different. This one felt purer. It felt deeper. It came out from his core and latched onto his soul. He would have thought it holy, had it not started to burn.

"Cas?"

Castiel suddenly gritted his teeth, feeling the searing pain now starting to stretch from his chest throughout his torso, down his stomach and to his shoulders as it reached out over his arms and after his legs. The gold light continued to spread, reaching up his neck and over his face to start bleeding through his eyes and mouth.

Dean felt himself freeze, as the feeling in his bones shouted to him that this wasn't good.

Then Castiel started to scream.

Light started pouring out, the scene bursting over his face leaving Dean feeling shambled and completely overwhelmed. He already knew what this was, recognizing it from the moment Castiel had used Bobby's soul to increase his power and retrieve he and Sam from the past.

It suddenly hit Dean like an unforgiving wave. He was seeing Castiel's soul, watching it pour out of him like a bolt of lightning as it was being stolen. Dean already knew, somebody was taking it. Castiel's soul was being ripped from out of him, and Dean could nothing but start shouting and hold on.

"Cas!"

Castiel continued screaming, trying to fight back the pain as the voice of the One started to pour into his head. Asking him to let go. To let him take what was his and let him live. Castiel couldn't ignore it, and let his screams grow even louder so he could block the voice out. It did nothing to stop him however, and Castiel continued to shout in writhing agony as the pain around his heart began to grow.

_You can't hide from me, my little angel. You're with us now. Now and till the end of your days._

Castiel simply kept screaming, the force of what was happening starting to throw the room into a hurricane of shouts, wind and blinding light. Dean clenched his arms around him, holding on as tight as he could as the strength of the ordeal started becoming unbearable. His skin literally felt like it was ablaze, his muscles tearing and veins exploding as the pain engulfed him whole. His screams turned into cries, his voice so torn and agonized that he sounded almost like a wounded animal. He was slipping from his grasp, and his sanity felt like it was pushing out to get away.

Shouts could be heard outside, the screams of Sam, Bobby and Claire barely reaching his ears from outside the panic room where they stood, unable to step closer from the force of his ordeal.

Castiel was fighting, using all the strength he could muster just so he could protect himself. There was only so long he could hold on though until he started to slip, folding against their grasps as he felt them rip throughout him.

_Don't worry my little angel. It's almost over._

Dean continued shouting, praying that Castiel could hear him and continue on fighting whoever or _whatever_ the Hell was doing this. Castiel made no indication of understanding him, his screams continuing to increase as the pain throughout his mind, body and soul did so as well.

It was absolutely _unmistakably_ unbearable. The pain he was causing was unlike anything Castiel had ever felt or could describe, or even possibly without a doubt hope to imagine. Not even when he had been mercilessly beaten by his brethren could it have measured to this. His soul was being torn from him, literally being ripped apart and stolen and he was powerless to stop it. This had been the goal all along, and there was no way to defeat it.

He could hear Dean shouting, telling him to fight and not give up or let those bastards win. He wanted him to know that he was listening, that he _was_ fighting, that he was trying as hard as he could but couldn't seem to hold on no matter how much tried. It felt like the leviathan all over again, but this seemed so much worse.

His hands were now bracing Dean's biceps, his right hand clasping just over the hand print as his head suddenly shot upwards and back arched sharply as his soul started to depart. Dean started screaming, shouting 'no' over and over again and threatening Cas not to give up. Castiel couldn't hold on though, and felt himself continuing to slip.

Dean saw it right through his eyes, as the light start to flicker and consume the entire room.

"CAS NO!"

Dean felt nothing outside of this small space he found himself in now, taking no notice of the demon suddenly appearing just outside the door holding something in his hand and apparently taking in the scene with no amount of shock. Rather just with plain acknowledgment.

"Oh boy. Am I late to the party?"

Dean just ignored it, his anger for his lack of remorse and panic for his friends ordeal quickly dying through as Castiel started to leave right in front of him. Dean didn't care about anything else right now, only the fact that Castiel was dying and was giving up the fight. The former angel couldn't continue under his own strength, hadn't had enough of it to do so. It was a lost battle from the start, and both of them had known that.

_Dean didn't want to see this happen. Not again. He had already lost him once. Dean couldn't bear the brunt, to lose him again._

"CAS!"

Dean's own cries were desperate as Castiel started giving up his final strength, the sounds of his voice coming out almost like that of what he used to have as the ground started to quake and the house began to shake. The light that had been reaching them was starting to collect within his chest, slowly traveling up his throat as the orb continued to grow.

Dean already knew what this was, reaching sad tear stained eyes at his friends face as he continued to resist. Crowley chose this moment to finally step forward, handing Bobby the ancient parchment he had brought along and giving him a stern look.

"You may wanna draw this now and get him in it."

Bobby could only stare at him, wondering 'what the hell' and just about every other phrase in between in reference to the demons calm veneer. But Crowley simply flared and bellowed back at the older man, clearly insulted at his patience. Here he was giving him a way to stop this and all he was doing was staring at him like a moron. He wasn't pleased with his curiosity, didn't appreciate the look of being questioned, and decided to Hell with being nice and to just ram it into his skull if necessary.

"Well you wanna wait till the boy goes _insane_? What the hell are you bloody standing here for? HURRY UP AND DO IT!"

Crowley waved a hand and managed to move both he and Sam into the panic room, tumbling them to the floor and instantly providing them with what they needed to set them off to work. Crowley knew they didn't have much time, probably less than what he had hoped, but the only thing they could do now was pray that they weren't already too late. He had finally managed to get what they needed, and it looked as if the favor had been rendered useless, though he secretly prayed that it wasn't.

"Start praying darling. This might be your only shot."

Claire could only look at him as his own sad eyes dropped on hers, the look on the demons face only increasing her own as she slowly turned back to stare at them, her body completely limp and rooted on the spot. Castiel was still trying to fight them, _all of them_, and no matter what effort he gave he was losing, crippling as Dean continued shouting to him to keep it all together. Sam and Bobby started spraying, drawing the seal simultaneously while chanting the spell with Crowley reciting it just outside the door and under his breath.

They needed a definite miracle now, and it was one they knew only He could provide.

_Don't worry my boy. It's almost over…_

Castiel couldn't hold on any longer. His chest heaved up, rising above as his soul pulled out and started to depart, his arms now folding back towards the ground as the force of his loss started to reach its peak. It was almost over, and he would finally be lost to them.

"CASTIEL DON'T YOU DARE!"

Bobby and Sam finally finished, the younger of the hunters shouting over to Dean and telling him to bring Cas over. By now the light was starting to fade from his chest and burn hotter from his throat, shining bright out of almost every orifice in his body as his soul began to leave him. Dean felt his own skin burning, but never dared to let go.

_The leviathan were winning, and all of them could see that._

Dean wouldn't take it though, couldn't if he was forced to, and used all the strength he could muster along with Sam's to drag Castiel over to the seal and set him right inside it. The two of them continued chanting, finishing the spell and sealing him inside as Dean sat down with him and continued to brace him, squeezing Castiel against his chest as he breathed the words along with them.

Dean started praying, silently begging to whoever would be listening that they couldn't let this happen. It became an echo in his brain, very much like Cas' screams had been to his ears and Dean wanted it to stop. He started crying even more, gritting his teeth in anger as he buried his forehead against Cas' shoulder and continued whispering in his head. He just wanted Cas to fight, to keep trying and not give up, and if he couldn't do it any longer, Dean would do for it him. He just had to believe, that he could.

"Come on Cas."

The spell finishes just as it stomps into the ground and everyone is blown away by the force, the effect of the incantation causing the seal to glow bright and surround both Castiel and Dean in a swirl of ribbons of light and gold. He could feel the warmth around him, knew its power and felt its grace as well as its tranquility. Dean just kept holding onto it, praying to God that this would work and he could save him or damn die trying. Dean refused to let go, but it seemed that Castiel had already done that.

_Dean_.

Dean looks up and over at Cas, the angels eyes no longer filled with light but his signature blue orbs. His arms are laying lifelessly beside him and against Dean's chest, the look on his face one of guilt and regret and maybe even joyful sadness. He isn't speaking, merely staring, and the small smile that creeps across his face is enough to tell Dean everything. Cas is finished, unable to struggle against it any longer, and Dean hears his final words spoken to him as they ring through his head.

He had only hoped, that it hadn't taken this moment for them to finally say it.

_I'm sorry Dean. I─_

He doesn't get to finish. With one final look his head turns up, his eyes and mouth once again filling with light and shooting upwards to the sky, filling the entire room and blinding them in its ferocity. It's burn is intense, almost scolding, but no one dares to look away or turn to run as its heavy weight nearly crushes them.

Dean continues shouting, begging him to fight and not give up, but it's already over. Castiel finally lets go to the battle, unable to hold on any longer even if his will commands it, and lets himself be taken so that the pain can finally end. The leviathan have gotten their way, and he has finally let them.

The room falls silent as the seal clamps shut and Castiel stops screaming, the air around them now a dead and eerie silence, empty and void of all noise and life.

Castiel's body slumps slowly against Dean's, leaving the hunter with nothing but a shell of the soul it once carried. Dean finds himself unable to speak, unable to let go or even move as he slowly allows himself to take it all in, pressing the cold body still lying in his arms against his own. Dean is in denial, his brain now swimming in it as he tries to grasp onto reality and convince himself that he doesn't feel anything. That the weight against him isn't even empty, but simply just asleep.

Dean is in denial, and Castiel is gone. This time, there was no coming back.

_Good boy…_

**To Be Continued…**

**Authors End Note:** I just had to ruin a perfect, sappy as Hell moment huh? *sigh* Yep, I'm a dream squasher. This chapter would have been out sooner but I had some other things to attend to (work doesn't count, if I had a choice I would have asked for this whole week off lol) and that was Misha Collin's latest brain child GISHWHES. Sorry about that (not really hehe).

Reviews are required now so go and give them please. They will thrill me as well as the crazy person that is my muse *wrings hands evilly while laughing like Leviathan!Cas* and is currently shouting at me to continue even though it was 3 in the morning when I finished this and I was dead tired after all the last minute tweaking and had to wake up at 5 to go to work. Two hours of sleep just to finish this, worth it. No but really, on a side note, the outline for this story is _finally_ finished and will include just 5 more chapters from here on out, 6 if I decide to include an alternate extended ending. Soundtracks, plots and little bits are already done and picked out (I'm trying to finish this completely before the series starts up again next year), so if you're still interested in this story please let me know by what we all do best. Giving our opinions. Until next chapter. ;D

Oh I almost forgot. Good last episode for once. Drunk "I think you just pissed off my sandwich" Dean was funny and amusing, but if the writers kill off Bobby (doubtful though; that'd be the ultimate suicide next to the Winchesters) then I will very certain kill someone. Not really, but metaphorically speaking I _will_ not be happy. Careful where you step Gamble, cause you keep smashing my toes woman. Gah! :P


	23. Chapter 23

**Authors Note:** Evil cliffhanger I know, but did you really think I'd leave it at that. ;) Of course not! I'm not cruel like Sera Gamble! I'm worse! Lol, no but seriously. I could never leave it like that guys (although that was the original plan to be honest after watching the premiere *ducks for cover*), but no, especially since I feared getting gouged by certain readers here (you know who you are lol) and I cried myself to hysterics while writing this chapter, especially with this quote in the beginning (yes I get **way** too into these stories sometimes). *tear* Also, my reason for delay in posting is simply this. I made a promise to myself **not** to update until I was completely **100%** satisfied with this chapter, considering how deep I wanted the content to be. This also means that I ended up sprucing up the last chapter, _again_…(it seemed a bit jokey to me in some places and I just didn't like that considering the content) and wound up adding another 3000 words to it to ring it up to 10500. Yeah folks, sorry. _Again_…

Special note with the soundtracks and then I'm done, promise, and you can read on to what happens to Castiel. The first half of Fade to Black really set the mood for me in the beginning and then the next track, A Place in Heaven was for the scene between Dean and Cas that was discussed in the first chapter. The second half of Fade to Black (3:53/5:02-6:52) is what makes up the final scene between Dean, Cas and Claire and sets the mood for the rest of it basically. These songs really hit a chord with me so I'd appreciate it if you took the time to follow the synchronization to them, if you want of course. It's your choice lol. I only just wanna give you the idea of mood I was in when I was listening to them and writing all this down. I was also listening to Buried Beneath by RED (I can blame another wonderful author here by the name of **Scoobert0** for that lol), but I'm saving that for another chapter. As for Kashmir (at the suggestion of the lovely **Cyberbutterfly**), the beginning sound is absolute perfection for saying 'time to bring on the pain bit**es' lol. You'll see why. Enjoy now! And long live Castiel! ;)

**Written:** 24 November

**Soundtrack(s):** Fade to Black by Metallica, Kashmir by Led Zeppelin, A Place in Heaven by Thomas Bergerson

**Word Count:** 7600+

"_Mercy and truth are met together; righteousness and peace have kissed each other."_

Psalm 85:10 – The Bible

**Chapter 23**

_Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray to You my soul to keep, And should I die before I wake, I pray to You my soul to take._

…

_Dean had heard this prayer countless times, in several different versions and in just as many languages. Some of them mentioned Christ, others mentioned angels. Some simply asked for passage to another day while some requested passage through the end to light. Dean had never told anyone, but his personal favorite were always the versions that mentioned angels, simply because his mother would always tell him that they were watching over him. Protecting him. Guiding him. He had every one practically memorized, something no one even knew about him, not even Sam, and it was a prayer that he secretly recited every single night since the day Mary died. It was the moment he felt his heart shatter into pieces, be rebuilt and once again made whole when he was raised, though never completely as it was. Not like how it used to be. _

_They were once the ideal family; mom, dad, him and Sam. They had been a perfect union, a union that seemed completely irreplaceable as well as undeniable. Until their lives were broken by a demon. By the deal. By every possible way that could crack them and break them and shatter them until there was simply nothing left. Many things had changed since then, including his family and those who left and came into it. They brought with them many triumphs, as well as many tribulations. None more so than this one. Pain._

_Dean was now a master at that hurt, of that suffering and of that agony, both inflicted upon him and those he had inflicted upon others. But this one felt so much different. So personal and shattering and wrecked that not even he knew how to explain it. It was like he had lost a piece of himself, the part of him that had been buried under all his sins, all his doubts and even all his fears, only to be thrown back and everything he wanted, all that he needed taken away because of it. It was his hope. The piece of him he thought he left behind back in the Pit taking his faith and shattering his dreams. His fantasies. His cares. The things that mattered that were never allowed to finish simply because of who he was and what was made in store for him. All by fate. All by destiny. A destiny, he didn't even want._

_Thus was his punishment for his trials. This, Dean could understand, and it felt like a gaping hole in his chest, larger and more deep than any scar he ever carried, one that had been torn and ripped apart and all for this one mercy. The mercy of understanding. This hole was true hurt, and he found it in himself, to _admit_ to himself, that it actually made him numb._

_This pain, was _regret.

* * *

><p>Dean was still just sitting there, his arms remaining as they were when all this happened, wrapped tightly around Castiel and the dead weight that it now made him. Sam and Bobby were there as well, looking down at the hunter with hesitant, fearfully sad eyes, as they tried to understand what it was he was actually going through. It hadn't been an easy road, not like ones they didn't already know, and they were actually finding it ironic that God had let them down, again.<p>

_As it always seemed, He did_.

Sam could see his brother falling apart, as silent as he was, and he knew that this was hard. Maybe harder than ones before, and even those that would come after. Because with them it was never maybe. It was always would. An inevitable factor in their lives that was woven in their beings. The Winchesters were cursed. Doomed to suffering for their consequences and always through those whom they loved the most. Sam actually felt himself falling apart at the thought.

…_They had lost Dean, again._

…

Bobby could see it on both their faces. Sam was showing his remorse but Dean as always was showing none, the older of the two remaining just as blank as he had been when John had died and he had burned. He was taking it, trying to at least, but this one seemed harder to accept. More personal in his mind. More connected than those who had previously perished. In Bobby's eyes, Dean wasn't even falling…

…_because Dean, had already fell._

…

No one spoke. Whether it was for several minutes or even several hours they couldn't tell for sure. They simply just sat there, watching as he fell apart and actually start to let his emotions show, allowing his tears to fall but not once losing his façade. He was trying to stay strong, maybe for them or maybe for himself, nobody could tell anymore, but not once did he move. Not once did he seem to breathe. Not once did he takes his eyes off of him. Dean simply sat there, and kept Castiel where he lay. Pressed right up against him. One slow, beating heart, pressed against one dead, silent one.

Dean had _experienced_ pain before. He would gladly, take it all back and again…

…_just to not feel this _one.

* * *

><p>It was Claire who had finally broken first, the young girl bearing witness to the true cruelties of life and needing to leave to sort them out her own.<p>

God truly was a patient man, she told herself. That was what she was taught, always by her father, but she clearly couldn't find the reasons why. So much had happened in the past two years, so many faults and so many memories and just as many pains had been caused because of what had happened. All she wanted was an answer to this one truth. Anything to free his pain and lighten her heart, anything to help her take the next step. If God truly did have mercy…

…_then how, did it all come to _this_?_

* * *

><p>Crowley remained as he was. Still, blank, concentrated, standing, watching, wondering himself how it all just seemed to break into pieces and fall into place. Even he felt some form of remorse, a human emotion he hadn't had in so long it seemed, and it actually made him quake. Here he was, a demon, looking at a broken shattered man who was being kept together by sheer will alone, his need to actually scream falling flat even to his own ears and him feeling every bit of it.<p>

Dean was in denial, couldn't seem to grasp the concept of losing his friend, his partner, his family, and he thought it'd get easier for them which each and every time it happened. This time was different though. Dean hadn't been ready he thought, much like he should have been, only because he was in pure and total dissent. Dean was suffering for it now, and seemed to actually be accepting it; that suffering, the truth. It was all abundantly clear now.

Dean could lie to himself all he wanted. Until his dam, _finally_─

**Broke**.

* * *

><p><em>The first tears have finally dried, only to be replaced by those he first held back.<em>

Dean began to wonder, how can you fix a broken man when he was never even whole to begin with? This was what he felt right now, seeing his friend and watching his family wait for him to shatter, wondering when the emotions that had been piling up would finally take their hold on him.

Dean just smiled slightly, taking in the peaceful look on Castiel's face as he tried to keep his own, continuing to cradle him. Dean knew he wasn't fooling anyone, wanted nothing more than to simply take it out and scream or shout or fight, just so he didn't have to feel anything. Feel any of _this_. The coiling in his stomach and the clenching in his heart, the piece that told him that he had to let him go but was fading by the spirit in himself that simply told him not to. That this was not how it was going to end. That he had to fight and keep on fighting until his friend returned and was safe again.

If not for them then for him, only for himself, and it was only now that Dean was coming to see this.

_Dean had loved, _did_ love Castiel, more than just a friend and even like a brother, but this was a completely different type of love that not even he could understand. It was woven, delicately threaded through his heart and even in his soul, impossible to smash or even break away. It was tethered to him, all from him and just for him, like the strings of life that kept a person whole. He thought it was will, but it seemed that there was always something more, things that not even he knew or saw or could even comprehend. They were simply already there, and only just for him. For the man he had become and the one he had made himself to be. He was different than the rest, this one saved for him and only for him and no one else, the man who had raised him, and had given back his life. This one was unique, _his_ angel, and reserved for none more so than he. It was now, that Dean could see._

He finally felt himself breaking, and wanted so badly to hide away the pain. Dean didn't know what lay behind the other side, never truly did, or just how much he kept there by sheer will alone. He wanted his friend back. Needed him there. Anything to take this all away and heal him of his doubts. Take away his fears. Let him feel what he truly wanted now. Only one thing, could make it all _stop_.

…_A breath_.

* * *

><p>The angel takes a breath.<p>

The healers have done what they can, removed what was managed and destroyed the remaining. Gabriel is laid to rest, while news of their latest travesty has come to ears of those who still serve Him.

Castiel is dead.

Only few take this as a shock, others a miracle, and some just refuse to acknowledge it at all. As if it were not part of a much larger picture, one that they don't even yet realize is already unfolding. It was nothing but a fathom, an occurrence that was never allowed to be spoken of. It was never once believed; only one of them, had been _right_.

Elizael feels a heavy burden as she remains behind, watching as Gabriel slowly recovers from his ordeal. She must tell him, be the only one who should, and she is unsure how to do it. The archangel had fought so hard, hoping to find a solution in time only to actually do so and fall in illness. Illness brought on by them, the leviathan and their disease, by the monsters that had managed to escape and were now destroying their world. As fate would have it, they had played them beautifully. Like pawns meant to be sacrificed to give way for the bigger pieces. Only they _were_ the bigger pieces, until their master stepped onto the board. Now they were merely pawns, in a world full of kings.

_We, are no longer the rulers of our destruction. We, are but simply…part of the game._

…

Gabriel lies asleep for hours as his vessel drains itself of its toxin, finally awakening as Elizael removes her hand from his chest and replenishes the last of his tainted grace. Eyes flutter open, slowly at first, blinking once to clear the fog and taking in his scenery. Gabriel recognizes the hospice, bringing brethren here many times before during rages of war and even during the fall of the Morning Star. Times like those had filled it, but in this time he was the sole resident, and he slowly craned his head to see that he was not actually alone.

His sister was there, with him, an unreadable look on her face mixed with sorrow and that of hardship. Gabriel merely asks, fearing that he may already know the answer, in which this is true. She simply nods her head, the mourning hidden behind her small frown bleeding past her borrowed eyes.

Gabriel falls slowly back down, looking at the sky and all its wake in disbelief. He has failed, had the power in his grasp and had been taken down. Him. The left hand of God and dearly devoted brethren. He can't deny his shock, his rage, nor the tears that start to fall. He simply just ignores it, keeps firm to his hard face, and doesn't protest as he is carefully lifted into awaiting arms and taken. A custom unfamiliar amongst them, but recognized as form of comfort to those they acknowledged to protect.

Humans were so complicating, but in moments of tragedy they always managed to surpass, even _their_ expectations.

Gabriel says nothing, does nothing, simply lets his hands lay in his lap as she wraps her own around his now trembling form. This time, she knows the movement are not from the leviathan blood that wracked him earlier, but from himself. His boiling emotions. His feel of defeat and denial of failure. Gabriel had the answer and had allowed himself to fall, only to lose it all in the end. He is angry. He is simply just, that.

She lets herself fall into these emotions, rejected by all others, and once, just once, allows herself the reprieve of showing what they mean. She simply holds him, trying to think of words of comfort that she knows will bring him nothing, as he simply asks of how. She doesn't lie, sees no reason to, and tells him the truth. Their brother has fallen, taken by the leviathan for their purpose and what's been left is nothing more.

Gabriel feels his anger grow, and it is now towards himself. She takes it from him, refusing such attitude and atrocity and forces him to let it go. He has every right, she knows this, but still she is denying him. This is not his fault, and not his burden to bear. It is all of theirs, simply one and _as_ one and forever as a whole. They were once a force that no one questioned, no one challenged or dared to take apart, until it _broke_ apart. It is a fact that many of their brethren have forgotten, but it is one she fights to keep.

Gabriel is still fighting, has been since the very beginning, and it's only just that he keep on doing so, with all of them at his side.

Elizael makes the decision, and it is time to put it into play.

With one final look she looks down at her brother, so much smaller than she remembers, even considering their true forms, but still so bright as the day he was born and transcended amongst the flock. She can't help but smile, softly, taking in his sorrow and coming to an understanding. He is hurting, as they all do, and it's a feeling she regrets to say she misses. Castiel will be avenged, this she assures him of. The plan has been set and the score will be settled, on all their behalf's.

She apologizes to Gabriel, for many things entirely, and leaves just as he does so as well, needing to make arrangements and confirm it for himself. Castiel is dead, every one of them had felt it, and it was a death that she acknowledges. The days of ignorance must end now.

For it is time to change things.

* * *

><p><em>A breath is just a simple action. It can mean the arrival of a new life or the revival of an old one, or it can also mean the rekindling of a spirit that was once thought to be gone. Dean can't decide right now, whether to be smiling or even shouting, or even if he's dreaming. All he can decide is that he's breathing, needing only one and then the next to confirm it, and it's all the miracle that he needs. To believe.<em>

* * *

><p>Claire wants explanation, any words from Him that tells her why and why now. After all this time and all these tests. She calls upon her angel, the guardian revealing herself and asking for her patience, which Claire has shown she's now run out of. She asks for her enlightenment, anything to prove her faith and the need to actually keep it. For she has no justification to. Josephine says nothing, but Claire continues asking. All she wants is an answer to ease her frustration and the pain in her heart, and the angel can't give her one. Then again…<p>

_This isn't her angel_.

Claire doesn't grasp that, not until she notices.

She gasps, as she actually looks and sees now; the small gold around her eyes and the white that glows around her. The sign she was searching for and the answer she's received. This isn't her angel, not entirely, and she finds her words faltering, because her heart tells her that it's her answer.

A tiny smile graces her lips, jade green eyes shining just past silver ones, the force behind it reaching and burning bright. Claire feels ashamed, if not aghast for ever doubting once, but mercy clearly has its moments and she finds hers there and now. She finds her body trembling as gentle fingers are placed on her forehead, the voices ringing through her mind so clear and light and divine that she can almost feel their pulse. It is like a ringing, a natural rhythm in her heart that floods through all her gates and bringing with it her rewards. It is light, and it's her heaven.

"You always were a special one. There is a way to save him child, but you're going to need some help."

The light around her intensifies, engulfing her being and stripping her of her doubts, overflowing her soul and uniting it with theirs. They are one union, all under His power and His influence. All under His generosity. She feels it spread throughout her self, her being, her one true form and only measure. It is beauty and it is grace. It is light; it is her wings.

She carries with her, no doubts, and gladly accepts the responsibility being handed to her. It is her reward, and it will be their savior.

"_I will be watching, all of you_."

With that final echo she is overcome, and the light takes her all. She is it.

* * *

><p><em>Time seems slow around him. He wants to shout. Wishes to scream, but his voice is gone. Empty. Just as it is in his soul. His soul. He managed to cling to it, though surely not enough to sustain him after what it is he's done, what he's managed to do. He hears a voice, the voice that draws him near and holds him up, the one that carries what is left and taken from him graciously. Castiel needs to say it. Castiel needs him to know. Before he is buried with it.<em>

* * *

><p>The room is a flurry of activity now, whether it is from their shock or Dean's near shouts, it is no longer empty and heavy, but full and light. Castiel is breathing, slowly and struggling but still he breathes. His eyes are still closed, but Dean can feel it, the faint thump against his chest that's coming from his own, the dead sound from once before now showing him its power and its will to survive. Dean is aghast, and it's only because of this. Castiel is alive. Not whole but still alive, and it's all he can ask for. The more he sees it the less he can imagine it, but the wider his smile grows until he feels it faltering. Something isn't right, he feels it deep in his gut and reaching out to him, but he prays that it is just another step to bring him where he wants.<p>

He continues hanging onto him, encouraging him to breathe and taking it nice and slow as his hand meets his face and holds it there. Castiel is breathing. He can't believe it but he's breathing, and it's all Dean can want. His skin is cold and clammy against his palm, so unlike how it should be, but the hunter doesn't care. It's not what counts and only what he sees and hears is what he listens to. Castiel is breathing. It's a sign of life. Maybe of a miracle.

* * *

><p>Crowley gave up his act and stepped inside, surprising only Sam and Bobby as he pulled a coin from around his neck and flipped it through his fingers, showing them his source of getting past. Even devils had their tricks; necessary around their group.<p>

He slowly made his way over, kneeling down and taking in as his hand met his chest. He felt nothing underneath, no remnants of a soul or proof that one was there and what had now become of it. Castiel had passed, this did not need to be said, and the demon chose not to voice it.

"I'm sorry mate." Dean doesn't even look up at him, not even when his other hand meets his slumped shoulder. "We were too late."

Dean can't help but mentally laugh at the sense of sadness he hears in those words. Crowley can't help but cringe.

Dean starts shedding silent tears, all through hard eyes and even harder features, feeling like a fool and above all a failure as he continues to keep his eyes on him. It had been minutes now, but none of it seemed to matter until Castiel lets out a breath. It's small, barely even a full one, but Dean picks up on it instantly and starts shaking in response. He calls out to him, feels the former angel clawing his way to consciousness as he fights to hold himself. Dean knows he's not dreaming, couldn't bear to believe the thought, and grasps onto whatever sanity he can manage as he watches. Castiel takes another, struggling, but Dean encourages him, asks him to keep going and moves his hand from around his waist over to his face to cup his cheek. Castiel is breathing, that's all he gives a crap about, and now it's the demon who's thrown for a surprise.

* * *

><p>"Bloody Hell."<p>

Crowley finds no more prefect words other than those as the angel fights to piece himself. Dean continues coaxing him, their circle now being crowded by Sam and Bobby too, as each one take in their sudden miracle. Castiel is alive, by sheer will alone.

Crowley puts a gentle hand back on his chest, much through Dean's clear annoyance, the former angels now half lidded eyes looking almost blank as Crowley feels what he needs. The angel managed to hold on, cling to a small piece of his soul but knows it's not enough. He has torn it, ripped it apart in an effort to keep it but in the process doomed himself. He will be in pain, indefinable agony. Crowley keeps this however, until the time comes to reveal it.

"Breathe Cas. I need you to breathe."

Castiel struggles but tries, attempting the action to mimic Dean's own as he continues to drill it into him. All he needs is to breathe, the ashy complexion of his skin going blue and back to white as he draws air in. "Dean I...I, I can't."

"Don't tell me that Cas, come one. You're doing great. Just breathe." Dean hastens to him and clutches his shoulders tighter, still keeping them chest for chest as Sam and Bobby watch with anticipation and Castiel fights to regulate his limbs and relearn the use of his lungs. It isn't easy, but he eventually gets it done and manages to gasp.

The room is filled, emotions going crazy and feeling like lightning as it hits him. He fought, longer and farther than he ever thought possible, but not without its consequences. He's surprised the demon hasn't already said it, about how he's just 'screwed himself' as Dean would put it, but he supposes he has reason, and is actually grateful for it. Dean would more than likely chew him out, but he doesn't think he'll care, not yet, not when he's just gotten proof of miracles.

He can't help the small smile tugging at his lips at simply just the thought.

Dean still hasn't let go. Probably couldn't if he tried, and not that Castiel wants him to. He feels his chest aching, just the start of what he's sure will be a terror, but he lives in the moment and with those he wants around him. The demon doesn't count though.

Dean can seem to read his thoughts, see right through him almost, and he can't help but chuckle slightly as Castiel gives one of his own. He's tired, so very tired, but he doesn't say a word as he swallows down and licks his dry lips. His arms are still shaking at his sides, right one moving slightly to press against Dean's chest, and all he wants is to sense the beat that lies against it. It feels so immune, but so more comforting than it seems. He thinks it's because his own is trying to match it, were it not fighting so hard just to move.

Dean sees his face drop, his skin start to shiver as it struggles to stay a normal color, feeling colder against his torso even as he pulls him closer. Castiel can't help but let out a small whimper, the ache now turning into stinging throbs as his limbs try to move. He doesn't even care to suppress it.

Dean wants explanation, looking up at Sam and then at Bobby when the answer is clearly in with Crowley. Castiel winces as Dean presses closer, wrapping an arm back around his waist and quietly apologizing and then getting angry, staring at the demon and awaiting his advice. It doesn't need to be said that he already knows what's happening. Dean decides to wait and see whose ass he's gonna kick first. His, or Cas'.

"Sorry love, but, I've done all that I can."

_He knew it'd be him_.

Dean awaited no more than that. He's also waiting for him to take his hand off Cas, which doesn't even need to be said. "Will this stop it?"

"The spell? It'll merely only delay it boy. Slowing it down may give you some time, but not much I'm afraid."

_Figures_.

Crowley keeps it there just to ire him, but finally gives in to his possessiveness and lets go. He can't help but notice the sigh he gives along with Cas' own. It only makes him question why again. Why the two haven't said anything and why the two are such dumbass idiots. Perfect match for each other it would seem.

Crowley merely stares, watching as the former angel closes his eyes and continues breathing. He's obviously weak, too tired to even move, and doesn't recommend he even try. He's exhausted, physically as well as spiritually, and he'll need them all just to make it through and get him through the hour. It's gonna be a bloodbath, and one he can't afford to miss out on. _Still a demon damn it_.

Crowley disappears, leaving the four men to bask in their new found predicament and forcing them to sort it out. Castiel wants to sleep, can't fight it if he tried, but Dean encourages him not to and to give him just a while to figure something out. Bobby already offers to hit the books, Sam wanting to stay behind in case anything should happen but is encouraged to find Claire, which he won't. Dean doesn't want to think it, but as he looks down at a clearly pained and trembling Cas, he can't help but wonder and think and pull him tighter without hurting him. Every move he makes is a chore and jolt, but Castiel simply takes it with a pleasure. It's worth it to him now, only because there may not be a later.

…

Later comes too soon as he finds his body aching, spirit sore and mentality screaming. Bobby has found nothing other than bad news, reading that a soul cannot survive if it is ripped apart, which Castiel has apparently done, unintentionally. His mind is battered and body shuffling, but he clings against the hunter as if his life depended on it. And it actually sort of does.

Dean hasn't even moved, couldn't seem to find the will, and remained there with him still clinging and his brother still watching. The spell has kept its hold, keeping the souls attached inside but unable to support it. This will fall to them, and the two of them know it as he struggles to stay awake. Castiel wants to sleep, but Dean is not allowing it. Castiel is scared, doesn't need to say it, but refuses to acknowledge it. He truly is a baby now, afraid of saying the truth when he nearly stopped it all just to give it to him. Castiel is tired, but doesn't say a word. So instead Dean still clings, being careful not to move or touch too hard as not to cause him pain, even if his own body is protesting in the position it sits in for so long. He's caring for a wounded child, it's what he says likely to himself, and Cas can't help but smile. It barely looks noticeable against the ash look of his face, but he has one nonetheless. His eyes are barely open, it's too painful to do more than that, but he clings on to what he can as Dean continues talking. He's heard his words from time to time, trying to acknowledge but can't help but overhear. Listen to what lies beneath and even what he doesn't say. It would seem that they're both scared, and that doesn't surprise him.

* * *

><p>Hours pass and still they lay there, miraculously, Castiel cold and bleary eyed and just a little bit out of it. His breath is hitching and skin now clammy, but still he holds himself together if only just for them. The soul inside has been crying, pleading to him to let it go and join the piece he's lost, but Castiel is stubborn and takes the pain as it comes along, even as it burns at his entire being. Dean wants to beat him, scold at him for being such a fool and knowing what this would do, but he can't help but feel happy knowing that he's still around. He doesn't give the hint of that, his eyes still only half opened and body limp against his lap, but Dean doesn't dare take any of it for granted.<p>

Besides, what's needed to be said has already been said, when Gabriel stopped by to grieve only to find their scene and then discover the truth. He becomes happy himself, but like the big brother, needs to show his annoyance as well, and does so even if it's not intentional. He's happy he's alive, couldn't be more than grateful, but still he knows the road ahead and doesn't want that for him. So he puts it to him simply, as lovingly as he can. _You Jackass_.

The demon soon returns as the archangel departs, along with information and what they need to do. He's run out of options, and can give only insight.

They ask Crowley how he knew, had knowledge of the spell and how it would work. He starts explaining as Castiel starts to settle, continued to be gently coaxed by Dean on how to breathe as he struggles, being urged that everything will be okay and not to overexert himself. He's only just laying there, and even that's a chore. He's trembling, feeling cold he's never felt and wanting to be dragged from it. Dean only pulls him closer, as if personal space becomes a nonissue, and continues to listen as the demon keeps talking. The spell is only holding, because the two of them are holding.

"I'm not gonna lie to you two, the souls did their damage. Decided to play around with your soul now that you've got one Cassie boy. But this is _so_ much bigger than that my friend. You've got someone hanging onto you, and he's not letting go anytime soon. Sadly, he's not the only one trying."

"What are you talking about?" Dean asks, wondering who on earth could possibly have a claim to him other than himself. _It's not something he says._

"I'm talking about Leviathan. And then there's the other seven princes of Hell of course. Question is, who's gonna get little Cassie here first?"

Dean doesn't say a word, simply chooses to ignore the throbbing in his throat and the stones in his gut. Castiel simply closes his eyes sadly and shifts his head, still supported against Deans chest, nuzzling against it as if to hear his heartbeat. Knowing that what Crowley says is the truth, he simply lays there, concentrating only on that sound because he knows it won't be long. He only wants to hear it, memorize it, take it as his own. It would soon come to that anyways. If God truly had a plan.

* * *

><p>"Why haven't you told him?" Crowley asks, ignoring the look on Dean's face as he listens.<p>

"Told him what?" Castiel doesn't even need to ask this question really, not when his tiny voice gives it all away.

"Your little secret. And I don't mean of Legion or any of the other little things you choose not to share. I'm talking about the big one. The one that's been killing you for _years_."

Castiel just looks away, and strangely enough, so does Dean. Even with part of the conversation, he finds it much too personal even for him. A demon playing therapist. Now there's a real joke.

"You know he holds it too. The same feelings." Castiel quietly looks up at him in surprise as pink slides over his face and then at the demon, as if studying the man still crouched in front of him and just outside the circle. Clearly he has no intention of joining their little soul fest. Thank God. "I honestly don't know why the hell you two haven't fessed up already, but frankly," Crowley felt his stomach twisting. He couldn't believe he was doing this, but it had to be done. Since the two idiots obviously weren't going to. "You two shouldn't have to hide what you both already know. The only problem _I_ see, is that you refuse to see it for it what it is. Remember dear boys, you always hurt the ones you love. That's why it hurts so much. I just hope you two figure it out before this all over."

Dean can't help but snort, and even Cas surprises himself with mimicking the gesture at the same time, even if it causes his muscles to scream from the movement. It doesn't mean he's lost his ability to snark though.

"You know Crowley, the last time I took any form of advice from you, I nearly destroyed myself and everyone I cared about. Why should this be any different?"

Dean wanted to answer, but waited to hear what Crowley had to say. Obviously this conversation was amongst one of their most interesting.

"Well for one thing this advice is free," he answers truthfully, looking down at the nearly paralyzed man and taking in his fear. Clearly he had no plans of jumping ship if he could help it. Not without a fight. "And I actually do want something good to go right for you, for once."

Even those quiet and heartfelt words make him want to puke, and he again disappears to leave them be and hopefully at it. It truly did take an apocalypse to get them to do it too. Neither one say anything though, and Castiel simply presses forward, temple against chest as Dean bows his head and allows him to rest awhile. It isn't goodbye for them yet. They don't need to make it one.

* * *

><p>Tensions are high, higher than most, and she is only now feeling this. She's made her point and proved it too, but some refuse to budge, and she requests an audience with her highest kin. There is no pushing it now, so she decides to blast it, by going straight to Seraphiel. At possibly the greatest cost.<p>

"Jehoel is unconvinced."

"Jehoel is a fool who still believes that angels are the greatest power in the universe and we aren't." Elizael argues, legs pacing and body tensing as she takes in her position.

She is clearly quite upset, can't believe that they don't care, but is not taking 'no' for an answer from a dick. _Clearly she's been watching humans too long, _but that is how she sees her brother, only because he's too damn prideful for his own good. She stops, taking in a breath and collecting on her thoughts. She's calm now, showing through her wisdom and her justice and hoping that he sees it. All she wants is revelation, and he is the one to give it to her.

"He forgets sometimes brother." She says softly, taking in her ordinance and making it shine through. All she wants is his help, and he is there to give to her. God be willing. She steps closer to him, meeting her brother eye to eye. All she wants is for them to listen. For once, to themselves. "There are things far older than us brother. Far greater in power and in strength. Nothing dares to challenge us, but there will be a day that comes across where we no longer hold the title anymore." Her smile falters, but still he sees it. "That day has come before us, now. It's here. And it's time."

Seraphiel doesn't even question her motives, and she can only hope that he can trust that.

* * *

><p>Seraphiel has called them all, making his choice and taking it with valor. They're at war, have known for some time that it would come to this, and with Elizael at his side and with Gabriel at hers, he makes the announcement. There's no hesitation, no denial, and there will be no opposition.<p>

"Gather your vessels. Tonight, we're at war."

Each angel obeys and bows out before doing as asked. The council retreats into the chambers as well, preparing their armies and prepping their garrisons to what may be the final fight. Every hand is needed, and every one will give.

All turn to leave, except for one.

"Elizael." She's stopped, a callous hand on her shoulder as she looks to face the head of her court.

She can only imagine what he may be thinking, that it is not in her position to question or make assumptions or even big decisions, but sometimes it is of necessary act and in this case need. She only wants what's required, and there is no denying that in this day and age. God is not there, they don't know where he is, and it is there position to make the decisions and to decide while he is away. Only until he returns.

"You've proven yourself all these centuries. The challenges you're willing to face, the circumstances you are willing to accept. Not many of us do." Seraphiel says, taking in her determination as well as her ambition. It's a trait he has seen in very few, but one she's never cared to hide. He only sees it now, but always felt it then. "I wouldn't be surprised if one day you ascended onto the council. Should God not have bigger plans for you."

She doesn't say a word, but lets her kind smile say it for her. She leaves as well to gather herself, and to spread the word of their new mission. It was now a test of sheer will, and one that they would have to give. A will, to prove to them all.

It was time to fight. And it was time to conquer.

* * *

><p>Hours have come to pass and Dean is at his end. Sam continues waiting, Bobby does as well, everybody there watching him deteriorate as he continues fighting. Castiel is at his end, holding on through will alone and needing nothing else. It'll never be enough though. It never has been.<p>

Dean wants to speak but his thoughts are interrupted, looking up from the cold weight still clinging in his arms and over to the door, watching as Claire walks in with Josephine just behind her. There's something just about her, a light that Dean didn't see before, and he wonders why that is. She looks peaceful, possibly even elated, but he can't see why when everything is going awry. She only does nothing and walks up closer, pulling in deeper and settling down.

She kneels down in front of them, taking in the difficult choice they have to make but it's one that can't be ignored. They have tired long enough. It was time to end it.

"Dean."

Even her voice is different, more grave than usual but also just as bright, as if being traced by heavenly hymn and gracious song. Something about her is definitely changed, and Dean can't seem to believe just why.

Her smile is real now, almost wide enough to pinch her cheeks to her eyes and actually become genuine. Despite the condition of the cold shivering man lying just before her and going into shock, she knows what must be done next. She can see it, see the speck of grace now radiating from Dean and gives a small smile to him, all in reassurance. There's just something different; maybe it's been hidden in her, as it's been with him all along.

"You're the only one that can save him now. Let me help."

Dean merely looks at her, holding fear but also question as she places hands on Castiel's shallow chest just over his barely beating heart, the other grasping Dean's left bicep, right over his scar. She simply smiles back as he takes her in, feeling the harmonious song and the warmth her touches bring. He wonders if this is what was meant to happen, and can't help but feel whole. He thinks he's got his answer, and it's come from the most unlikely source.

She simply smiles back at him, whispering the words as her light begins to shine. The warmth is spreading, her eyes closing softly as she bows her head and the angel watches, basking in the glory. The Enochian words are spoken, a pull being felt throughout him as she gives them what they need. Dean offers it willingly, knew that it was always there, suspected that he hid it there, but doesn't say a word. He can feel the vibrations moving, flowing faster under their skin as her words pick up pace, the seal around them glowing and reaching down deep into their souls. He suspects that this is it, that this is what he waits for and this is what he wants, and he will gladly take it. It's not an end, merely a beginning, and one he knew was coming all along.

He knows that it's time, and he looks down just the second that Castiel looks up. Both of them can feel it, sense the trigger and the light as both soul and grace are merged, those outside the light unable to catch the phase, other than the angel of course, who remains hunched against the door, standing casually with her hands in her jean pockets. He's never felt so whole, so pure and unmistakable and even just as taintless. It's as if a miracle has happened, one he never even thought of or thought was even achievable. Both of them now connected, deeper than they ever dreamed of, and more delicate than what was possible. It's all he ever wanted, and now it's being granted.

"Dean. There's something I need to tell you."

Dean simply smiles and gives him a soft kiss, pressing lips against his forehead before looking down to watch him. "You don't need to say it Cas. I already know."

"Didn't think I had to."

_It's as close as the true words will get. For now_.

Castiel's voice is simply just a whisper against his own. He smiles back at the gesture, feeling his soul push apart as it makes room for his. The lips now meeting his are just as giving, and he finds it keep him woven as the process takes its course. Through it all he says nothing, simply lets it happen, and allows his friend to tell him it's okay, even if the words don't get spoken. All it takes is this touch.

The light just gets brighter, purely blinding, seeing it expand as her wings slowly unfold and emerge, glowing bright and circle them around. Her task is now complete as the two of them are joined, and it's all they'll ever need now.

The deal is done. Dean has his need, Castiel his want, and both of them, each other.

**To Be Continued…**

**Authors End Note:** Notes on last episode…um, evil cliffhanger. Enough said. Talk about torture. And…MISHA TO RETURN IN 07X17! YAY! Probably old news by now but still, yay! Now let's hope we're not disappointed or our hearts aren't yet again destroyed lol. Hearing way too many rumors but won't believe one till I get confirmation and I am already freaking out because they mentioned Misha returning, not Castiel and I'm not too thrilled to learn that our angel may be gone for good. I won't go any further because if not I'll never end lol.

Now that I'm done with that little rant, here's another. If you're wondering about the scene between Josephine and Claire, I am leaving that open for interpretation for you to decide what you want. I will not force an idea on you which is why I left it open. :) Also for the final scene between Seraphiel and Elizael, that small snippet was added at the last minute as a tie to for my first verse, which is where the original character of Elizael was born. I'm still shuffling ideas, but I like where it'll be heading. Anyways, reviews are love so if you think I did this right, don't be afraid to tell me. Much appreciation and love to all of you who have favored, reviewed and alerted. You guys truly are my heroes. ;D


	24. Chapter 24

**Authors Note:** Had to make a few corrections on my research, so some facts have changed from the preview I posted. And…I've decided to add three more characters to the story, none of them are OCs, and you will be seeing one of them here. Also, I know I mentioned Legion showing up in this chapter but my brain went a totally different direction than I expected and the length of the scene just got way too long which made the length of this chapter completely redonkulous. So I'm sorry to say that I moved it to the next one to hold the suspense just one last time. I hope it's worth it. Enjoy now. :)

**Written:** 25 November

**Soundtrack(s):** Acts of Courage by X-Ray Dog

**Word Count:** 6600+

"_Behold, how good and how pleasant it is for brethren to dwell together in unity!"_

Psalm 133:1 – The Bible

**Chapter 24**

Bobby Singer can virtually tell you every single little weird thing he's ever seen in his life, but this one just had to top it, and _that_, was saying pretty much everything. Here he was, in his living room, standing and looking at two grown men and a young girl, all guests of his home for the past few months and now apparently, _angels_.

Bobby just stared as if it wasn't just the weirdest shit he'd ever seen, and looked just about, well, he just went with it instead of toppling over like they all expected him to. Again, he was pretty much used to this sort of thing already. _Sort of_.

"So."

"Yeah."

Dean couldn't really give him more than that, not when his face was starting to turn a bit pink from the embarrassment of having his father figure looking at his, well, you know. Maybe this was why angels never actually showed them other than to other angels. It was just…_damn uncomfortable_.

"Bobby will you please stop staring."

"It's kinda hard to don't ya think?"

"Bobby," Sam steps in, walking right beside his brother who's wings slightly folded to accommodate his. Sam had apparently inherited Gabriel's through the grace he carried, and it appeared that the archangel had an extra set to go with his already big enough first tucked just under it. The main rested on his shoulder blades, the other just between there and the small of his back. Bobby was _still_ trying to get used to that. "Just so you know, when it's not an angel staring at another angels wings, they sort of explained to me that um…"

Sam tries to find the right words, hoping that Bobby gets the picture without him having to say it. Claire just rubs the bridge of her nose as a bright shade of pink flows over her cheeks, while Dean's face glows a dark red, the hunter choosing to stare up at the ceiling to avoid Bobby's gaze. It wasn't his fault he couldn't fold the damn things in like Cas used to. He just _really_ wished Bobby would stop _**staring**_.

It's only then that Bobby gets the picture, and stumbles back in embarrassment, his own face now going redder than all of theirs.

"Oh. _Ohhh_, oh okay my bad. That was, that wasn't my─ yeah. Yeah I'll stop. Enough said."

Bobby slowly backs away with hands raised, still trying to wrap his head around the idea that Dean is sporting wings, beautiful white and shades of ivory with tips of green. Sam's two sets are both the same, white starting at the base with ivory reaching through the middle and shading to blue at the ends. Both his boys are angels, and the little one who managed to make that happen is standing just behind them, her feathers a simple pure and glorious bright white robed with silver tips, much like her own angels wings.

Bobby has stopped with the staring, but apparently, not with the questions. Curiosity has gotten the better of him and it's only now that he's considering how exactly it is that they're taking it.

"So, how do they feel?"

"Like air." Dean answered quickly, hiding a smirk and then releasing it as he tries to put it more into perspective for the man. He is the one carrying the things after all. Curiosity _is_ expected. "I don't feel them Bobby. It's like they've always been there. Strangely enough."

"Oh. Okay." He shakes his head, planting his hands lightly on his hips before asking what might be the stupidest question of his entire life. That, or the most awkward. He simply can't help it. He shifts his weight from one foot to the other, and the brothers are already well aware what the means. _Get ready for a total weird out_. "Don't suppose I can touch them can I?"

"_No_." Dean says, flat out, obviously showing his possessiveness over his new appendages, and his friends dignity. "No touching."

"Got it." Bobby raises his hands again, clearly in defeat. _Yeah, that wasn't weird_.

Castiel's wings were beautiful, probably the most striking out of the three of them there, but had obviously taken some sort of hit with a handful of raised edges and what seemed to be a slight cinder. Dean didn't seem to mind it, thought quickly that the translucent feathers were just like that from his trip in Hell, and he actually took pride in knowing that fact. Castiel had raised him, tainted what made him known to pull out the Righteous Man that God had ordered saved, and it only made the feeling swelling in his chest that much brighter. Dean was happy, and felt very much respectful. Honored, to have this chance with them.

* * *

><p>Things were starting to pick up, and every one of them could feel it. The angels had been called to war and Dean, Sam and Claire had heard the command clear as a bell in their heads. Dean was a little hesitant, not wanting to leave Castiel alone but also well aware that he specifically would need to be there when it all actually went down. Castiel was in good hands, so Dean knew he needn't worry.<p>

"So, are you gonna watch over him while we're gone?"

"You already know I will Dean. You shouldn't have to ask." He would have felt insulted had he not known the truth behind Dean's question. All he needed was a little reassurance. "Everything will be fine."

"Yeah well I'm not so sure about that," he smirked, taking in the fact that with their newly installed wings they had also gained knowledge, and it turned out that this fight was much larger than they had previously anticipated.

Legion was a bad ass, a big one it would seem, bigger than the Devil himself and combined along with seven princes and all the evil that they carried made for one scary as Hell thought. This guy was a problem, bigger than most, and one frankly that they were not prepared for. Dean simply removed his eyes from him as he motioned that he was going to check up on Cas one last time, heading back downstairs to the panic room where Crowley was graciously waiting just outside the door, now that they had managed to swipe that blasted coin of his. Angels had a lot of tricks, and being one had its many advantages.

"How is he?"

"Hasn't moved," the demon replied, not forgetting to bring out a small smirk filled smile as the hands in his coat pockets clenched. Damn hunter would be more of a pain in his ass now with his new, well, it's already been said.

Dean carefully stepped inside, looking down at his friend laying sprawled out casually on the floor and still over the seal that kept him grounded. Castiel was asleep, hand resting lightly on his chest while the other remained at his side. He looked so peaceful, so much different than the way he had been earlier, and Dean could only relish in that fact.

Castiel was going to be okay, if he had anything to say about it.

Dean gently took a hand, placing it carefully over the one on his chest and gave a silent prayer, hoping to God that he could hear it and promise him that he would take care of him. Dean was never a man for words for these sorts of things, but now was the moment he was willing to except.

* * *

><p>The group hear the call to arms and prepare to head out with Gabriel as their guide, but not before Bobby stops them and hands something to Dean, unwrapping the object from its cloth and giving him a firm look in the eye.<p>

"It may not do much, but it's worth a shot. Considering it's gotten us out of a few jams before."

Dean takes it and looks it over, recollecting some of those moments when it had been used. It had indeed gotten them out of more than just a _few_ jams, but he wondered if it would be able to help in this case. It couldn't hurt to try, and like he had said, it was worth a shot. Quite literally in the sense.

"Thanks Bobby."

"Don't lose it."

"I won't." Dean smiles gratefully, sliding it into one of the inside pockets of his late father's brown leather coat and keeping it safely tucked inside.

They don't make this a goodbye, frankly because they don't want to give that idea a chance, the chance that they may never see each other again. So, as they usually do, they don't say goodbye at all. A simple see you later suffices, each one giving almost awkward hugs to the hunter as they give their goodbyes, Gabriel choosing to stand and watch the whole exchange. Claire is the last to give hers and thanks Bobby for everything he's done and for what they know he will do. Bobby takes note, again confirming that he will take care of everything.

With simply that in mind they leave, giving one final heartfelt thank you with only just a look. The four disappear in a beat of wings, leaving Bobby all alone.

…

They make it there before they even know it.

Heaven isn't how Dean imagined it, simply because he had seen so many and had even been to the veil just behind it, where it was just him, his baby and his memories. This seems so much different though, misty and almost empty, but it's only because it's not his manifestation, his manipulation, and this he must remember. This is Heaven, and it's the one that only _angels_ get to see.

They stand before a building, an almost exact replication of the Parthenon if he sees it correctly, and it's only then that he notices the beings gathered around. It's mostly light and a mix of prismatic and beautiful color, but Dean can see the outlines of those who burn bright and others who burn brighter. It's because of his own grace, the one he carries and protects, can he see this.

"Nervous?" Claire asks him, giving him a small smile in reassurance as he looks down at her.

"Nah." He smiles right back, trying not to show that he is fact a little intimidated, but it's natural.

As if she can read his thoughts, she quietly tells him otherwise, gently and honestly. "Don't be."

She smiles again and takes the lead, following just behind Gabriel as he takes both he and Sam up the steps to the temple where the angels are waiting. It's a cluster of heavenly colors, lighted beings with wings of silver, maroon, rose red and ocean blue, even green and some of aquamarine or black. Each tip shows their rank, and it's this that Dean is studying.

Powers are what he's ranked under, this he knows from the memories he's being shared, and it's obvious that those who carry blue tips are ranked as Archangels, as Gabriel and Michael are. Dean can't help but think, he much prefers the wings he has now over the ones he was destined to get, being Michael's vessel and all.

It's at that thought that they gain a visitor, and it's one that doesn't seem all to happy to see them. Or even to see the Archangel. Both hunters can't help but feel knots twisting in their stomachs at the aura he gives off, so much so that it almost makes them nauseous. This one is a tough one, and one not too keen on showing off his clout. It's only Claire who doesn't seem to care.

"What is this blasphemy?" He hears said angel ask, a Dominion, shouting from atop the steps as he manifests his borrowed form and the maroon of his wings glows threateningly.

He is soon met by another angel who has heard the commotion, one with even bigger wings tipped in deep red and illuminated in thin threads of gold. This angel cautiously walks over towards them, slowly manifesting her own young vessel and stepping forward. She stops just before Gabriel, who looks up at her from the step below.

The Dominion stands just behind her, sees through the two humans and can tell that the grace they carry is borrowed. It causes a fierce red to flush his face and match the scowl he shares. It's clear that it's rage he feels, and it can be felt in the air as well as show in his posture.

Gabriel looks as if he could really care less however, considering the douche of a brother used to be one of Zachariah's favorite 'will breakers', a thought that quickly passes through his mind and causing an almost murderous frown to pass through his sisters features. She doesn't even attempt to hide it, at least not at first. Clearly she's had her own personal issues with their now deceased brethren, but past is past in her mind and it will stay there. For if it doesn't, either one would more than likely find a reason to revive him just to 'shiv his ass' as said archangel has used once before. Gabriel lets the thought go, she as well, and focuses instead on the brother at hand. _Not as much a douche, but still._

"Oh keep your panties on _Muriel_. No need to start a scene."

Dean, Sam and Claire only watch, as his sister blankly turns to them and then over to Gabriel. Clearly he feels less threatened by her, even if the aura she gives off feels massive on their shoulders and against their own wings. They already know, this is one angel not to trifle with. They can only hope that she is on their side.

"Gabriel you know the rules." She says in a hushed tone, unable to believe that the archangel has broken one of the cardinal laws of Heaven, especially in the dimension of the beings of light. _Never bring a human_. She can only hope that there is reason, (which she has already seen) lest the others behind her want to make a case against him. It's no secret, many of their highest have been trying for eons to persecute the archangel for his actions and abandonment of the Host. She didn't need that starting now, and would prevent it at whatever cost possible. "They shouldn't be here."

"Uh, I'm pretty sure they've got a membership." He grins cheeky, pointing his thumbs back towards the trio behind him and showing just why.

The three of them raise their heads high, showing their want to prove themselves and slowly unfold their wings. Sam and Claire express the hope for understanding on Gabriel's part, but Dean however keeps his façade. He's not intimidated by her, the jackhole behind her either, and does not wish to show that he is. It's then that she understands his stance and reasoning, and sees it clearly. She looks stern, but hides grateful acceptance behind her tiny smile, and turns back around to the second triad general in assurance.

"It's alright Muriel. There's no need."

"Elizae─"

"There's _no_, need." She repeats, sternly this time and without want of question.

The angel simply accepts her command, a moment of hesitance showing and bows his head in acknowledgment, disappearing back into the crowd.

She turns back around to Gabriel, slowly unfurling her own wings which has both Sam and Dean almost shaking from their size and count. Dean can't help but think about taking back his previous thought. It's clear that she's different from the rest, possibly even higher, and this they know again from the knowledge they're being shared. This one is a seraphim, and it is apparently she who called the meeting.

"Dean Winchester, I presume."

She smiles to him caringly, as he slowly gives a nod to indicate his answer. He can't help but feel nervous around her, but then again this is Heaven, and he hasn't been reluctant to call them all dicks even if she doesn't look it. He doesn't think he can pull that here. He'd lose. _Badly_.

"I can see him, in you. How does it feel?" She asks him, voice soft and caring like her eyes, every bit expected of an angel of the Lord.

Dean isn't even sure how to answer that, staring down as all eyes fall on him, Sam's especially just beside him, and he comes out with as much of a straightforward answer as he can. It's nothing but the truth. "It's weird. Knowing that I'm up here but I'm also down there. And the fact that he's _with_ me, literally, _and_ still down there too. Kinda doesn't make sense in my head."

"It doesn't have to. Just know that you're keeping him alive." She smiled wider a bit and graciously turned to look at Claire, (a sudden and unreadable expression took her face when she did) and then over to Sam. Her smile falters for a moment as she sees the true extent of the brothers borrowed grace. Her mouth opens just a hint, quickly shutting back as Sam looks over at Dean in question, who simply shrugs.

The two have no idea as to the reason behind her stare, but it isn't until her eyes meet Gabriel's own do they start to wonder what it is she sees, and what it is the archangel hides.

She says only two simple words, and it brings with it so much question that it almost makes them shake.

"You didn't." Her tone is almost blank, were it not for the hint of foreboding that Dean hears behind it.

Gabriel only manages to say two words back, both with a perfectly cheeky smile. "I did."

She simply lifts her head, looking almost on the verge of saying something sternly and severe, but instead softens her face, sighs and turns around, slowly walking back up the steps as the four them follow her to the courtyard.

"Please tell me you _actually_ got his permission."

"I wouldn't have been able to if I _didn't_."

It's almost uncomfortable silence between the two now, but of this she says nothing. Only to Gabriel does she speak, whispering, and it's in the tone of the position she possesses. She may not be of the highest seraphim in her triad, but she is certainly just under it, and this Gabriel knows and is honored to respect. His sister is of great importance, and is also his link to the council and their generals. It was she who saw his purpose, his reason, and it was she who had granted this moment in much heeded necessity.

She speaks to him, softly, as the group reaches the final steps. It is clear that she is uneasy, but of what the three do not wish to find out. They choose instead not to listen, so as not to interfere in what they're sure is a matter just between the two. They'll be told if it's necessary, so they ignore it.

"You know that if Michael finds out about this," she tries to find the right words, mouth hanging open as she contemplates and picks a reference that she's heard humans use many times before. She's sure that even Castiel has used it on occasion, and she can only hope that she has it right. Humans had so many ways of communicating one message, that it seemed almost tasking to her. "You know that you're…_screwed_, right?"

Gabriel can't help the wide grin framing his face at her use of human expression (and the bit of a confused look that came with it), and replies with a simple 'meh', as if to tell her that he could really care less.

It is another term she's heard, and can't help the small cheeky grin tugging at the edge of her mouth as well. She clearly had been watching humans too often, and Gabriel had obviously associated with them for too long. She only manages a soft chuckle, before giving the Trickster what he wants. It's nothing more than she expects, from both of them.

"Of course you wouldn't."

"You know me. I take things as they come. Plus when it comes to Michael and his rules I really don't give a─"

"I get it." She interrupts, before he can even say it.

Sam and Dean find themselves almost choking back their laughs, which the two angels quickly notice. She finds nothing of this conversation amusing. Elizael may condone, tolerate, excuse, pardon, ignore, heck even encourage an inkling of Gabriel's sarcasm to a degree (a very small degree of course), but foul language was still **null** in her book. The archangel doesn't even try to hide his laugh at her thought, and she actually finds herself rolling her eyes in annoyance and then laughing quietly to herself. _She really needed to stop watching humans. And Gabriel really needed to stop acting like one._

The five of them reach the final set of stairs and step onto the platform, falling near the edge of the crowd of angels. Elizael whispers to Gabriel, giving him a small message and an assurance that she will return, leaving the archangel to nod and accept her sudden departure. Another factor has apparently been brought to his attention, and he isn't sure how to take it yet.

Sam, Dean and Claire ignore the strange interaction completely as they look around the crowd for any possible familiar faces. Dean doesn't expect to see any, Sam either, and both silently start praying at that second that they don't catch one they _don't_ want to meet again. The last thing they need right now is to see Uriel (doubtful), Zachariah (fat chance), Michael (no way in _Hell_), Raphael (please God no), or even Anael (_so_ don't need that right now), and they're actually relieved to find that they don't.

Dean relaxes a bit, staying close to his brother, the archangel and his now practically little sister, and stick to the edges of the crowd. He doesn't want to interact, not right now at least, but that idea suddenly changes when he hears his name being called out to him. The voice sounds familiar, excited almost, but Dean can't quite put his finger on it. It's right there, right on the tip of his tongue, he just can't figure out where.

He hears his name again and turns, only to see a kind of small someone almost jogging towards him. It finally hits him. The face Dean sees is one he does immediately recognize, and it's one he doesn't even come to expect. _Not by a long shot_.

"Hey Dean," the angel smiles, attempting to catch his breath (though he technically doesn't have to) as he takes in the man before him. It's nice to see a familiar face, one he clearly didn't expect to see either. Or at least believed that he would ever see again. "So I guess the rumors are true."

Dean needs another second to take this in, his mouth hanging and voice lodged in his throat as he merely stares at him. Sam and Claire are staring now as well, and not even they can believe it. Last they heard, well, they had no idea where to even start.

"I'm glad to see you two made it. Although it probably would have been better under less than…_subtle_ circumstances I guess huh? Sorry we keep dragging you into this. Some of the other angels aren't happy about it but, hey, _I'm_ happy to see you."

Dean finally finds his voice, and loses the stupid look on his face. It lasts only long enough to blurt out a few choice words.

"Chuck?" Dean still can't believe it, even though the evidence is right there in front of him. "You're dead?"

The former prophet only smiles in amusement, sporting two sets of silver illuminated aquamarine blue tipped wings similar to Sam's and Gabriel's and carrying a leather bound book and a quill under his arm. There's no way he could be here, but then again, they haven't heard from the man in a while either. Dean tries to process this, but has a hard time doing so even under the circumstances. There's just no _freakin'_ way.

"No," he chuckles, taking in the hunters expression and still unable to believe his luck. "Of course not."

"Then what the Hell are you doing here?" The stupid look is back, but now, so is his irritation.

Chuck can only laugh, taking in the expression on both his and Sam's faces as they see not only the former prophet but apparent Virtue before them. It's clear that they should have stayed more in touch after the whole 'end of the world' fiasco.

"Okay technically yes I am but, I didn't _die_ guys. I just…finished my work. You know how it goes for a prophet once they're done."

The two merely give a blank stare at each other, and Chuck can't help but laugh at the look on their faces again. It certainly is a priceless one, and he can't help but laugh some more at how they're looking at him. It's like they'd never seen him this way before (which technically they hadn't) and it was actually kind of nice to see. Dean only hoped that the fact that Chuck was _here_, wasn't because of his doing. He'd gotten enough people killed already. He didn't need any more of this on his conscience.

"You guys need to read your Bibles more often."

And that was enough to get that idea out of Dean's head. "In our defense, Cas mentioned that it's mostly wrong." Dean replied, trying to show a toothy grin and failing miserably at it. He still couldn't believe it. _Chuck_ was literally standing right in front of him, an angel, and a very peaceful looking one at that. Nothing like he used to be when he was a human.

Chuck just smiled and gave them a suddenly cheery see you later, walking away as his work summoned him back to the group of angels.

Dean doesn't even know what to say, Sam quietly giving the former prophet an 'I'll see you later' right back and looking back at his brother. Of all the things to happen in the last year this was probably one of the best, and even they feel if not a little more light hearted for the fact. Dean then looks over to Claire for clarification, and asks what he probably knows is a silly question. The knowledge in his brain is already telling him otherwise.

"Just to, make this _perfectly_ clear. Once a prophets work is finished they ascend into Heaven to become angels. Right?"

Claire only nods her head and grins, confirming his suspicion. Dean thinks about it and decides, that maybe being a prophet had its perks after all.

"You really should read it more often Dean. Whether it's right or wrong, it does still have a lot inside to help you in your troubles. Whenever you find yourself in doubt or in need of guidance, the word of God does help. You just have to give it a chance."

Dean doesn't even choose to dignify that with a response, and instead decides to playfully insult her. It's better off then telling her that he already knew that. "You're such a Bible nerd."

Claire only chuckles in amusement before playfully shoving him, which he gingerly returns.

The group continue conversing amongst themselves as the council of seraphim look onwards from where they are situated. They have seen the extent of their actions, see the grace and even the power that they hold, but it's the child that mesmerizes them the most. Elizael has seen it, she's more than sure that Gabriel now has as well as he looks on at her, and it is now all clear to them as well.

Seraphiel merely looks over to Elizael, who nods in confirmation. It's their sign, that He ultimately _is_ watching over them. The child, has been touched. It is she, who will decide it all.

* * *

><p>The group is summoned and is asked to walk forward, the four of them making their way over to the top through the crowd of angels who are now parting to make way for them. Dean doesn't know what to expect, and so he keeps an eye out. They're all quiet now, watching them with concentrated looks as their group makes its way to the other end of the courtyard and up to the stage that sits there. Dean is almost shaking, seeing a group of nine more seraphim and the brightest of them all in the middle. All of them have manifested their borrowed forms, the angels around them forming them as well, and the hunters can't help but feel a little out of place. Strangely enough though, Dean looks over at Claire, and notices that she doesn't even seem affected or afraid.<p>

He simply takes her confidence in stride, looking over at his brother and nodding as if to tell him that there's no reason for them to have doubt. They've been invited here. Maybe not by all but obviously by some, and both of them keep this mentality as they reach the near top.

Elizael introduces them, gesturing to Dean and then to Sam and lastly Claire, whom the angels take longer to blankly acknowledge than they do they. There's something about her, something that the angels see that they cannot either believe or understand, but it's a matter that is not discussed, and so is quietly put away.

Dean steps forward, looking over at Gabriel and then at Elizael who has yet to remove her gaze from him. The look on her face is noble, blankly but still there, and it's she he looks towards as he takes one more step and finds himself close enough to almost touch her. He stays three steps down however, looking up at her face as she holds her own façade. It's blank, more than likely to keep her stance around her brethren, but even Dean can tell what she hides beneath it. It's almost a smile, but she doesn't show it. It is respect, and it goes both ways.

"So, I'm guessing you've summoned us because you've got bit of a problem on your hands."

"It's not exactly a bit of a problem." Elizael answers, hiding the hint of fear she feels so as not to alarm them or her brethren court. Emotions are not looked well upon by angels, so when she does experience them, they are veiled. "It's bigger than any you've ever faced I'm afraid."

"Well it's not like we haven't dealt with them before." Dean always told himself this, if just to get him through another day. "If I can deal with an apocalypse and the Devil and practically a war in Heaven that showed up at my doorstep then I'm sure I can tackle this. You guys never seem to have thought differently when you decided all that."

"It was never us that decided the course of your destiny Dean. It was our Father. _He's_ the one who chose you, and it is _you_ whom He made to have become the Righteous Man." Elizael answered honestly, a hint of admiration in her voice as she smiled down at the man whom her brother had given up his entire being for. She still couldn't entirely understand why, but she assumed that only he would really know. "God has made no other. You're the only who can help us."

And if that didn't make Dean's nerves settle down with his now boosting assurance, the look of highest regard she gave him took care of the rest.

"Yeah well if that's the case, then I guess all I can say is bring it on." He shrugs and smiles back, if only to cover up his small pang of doubt.

Unfortunately however, not all of them believe that to be the truth, and are not hesitant to show it.

"You seem so confident of yourself, for an ape." Jehoel replied suddenly from where he stood, receiving both a hateful look from the hunter as well as a blasphemous glance from his brethren, Seraphiel mainly.

Elizael remained quiet, burying her anger as she looked off into the distance and waited for her brothers wrath, but got a surprise when Dean decided to do it for him, probably not even thinking about his words before they even came out. _He was gonna land himself in so much trouble._

"And you seem so full of yourself, for a _dick_ with wings."

The entire place froze at that moment, Sam with his mouth hanging open, Gabriel biting back a chuckle and Elizael with her eyes blown wide. Even Claire was struck speechless and it was only then did Dean wish to stick his foot in his own mouth. He was amongst _angels_, hundreds if not thousands of them, and if there was one thing he really had to learn quickly it was that he couldn't insult them, no matter how tempting. He squeezed his eyes shut and then looked up, trying to find the words to say to quickly apologize but never got the chance.

Seraphiel stepped down from his perch and approached him, the hunter expecting a whiplash of light to throw him into next century and smite him where he stood. He didn't know whether to start talking or start running, even Sam got ready for the possible death match (in which he knew Dean would lose without so much as a shot in Hell at winning), but to all their surprise, none of that happened.

Seraphiel stopped in front of him, Elizael keeping a watchful nervous eye as Dean stood his ground. Whatever confidence he had then and there had pretty much shriveled. _Dean, was a goner_. He waited for the strike, staying where he stood in a need to prove how stupid he was, and got nothing but an almost heinous glance. A look, a slight head tilt, and a small laugh.

Dean felt his face drop at that instant, his expression contorted in complete idiocy and confusion. He started wondering if what he was seeing was actually real. _Was this guy actually_…_laughing_? That was either a good sign, or a very _bad_ sign. Dean was again shocked at how everything suddenly unfolded.

"No wonder Castiel thought you were so infuriating," he said, smiling only slightly as he stood face to face with Dean. His vessel was just as tall as he, with honey blonde hair and light brown eyes. Dean would have pictured him for a family man, had an angel not been wearing him at the moment. "But I guess I see now, why he fell for you. Why he thought you worthy of having a will. You have confidence. An arrogant one, but still…you hold much more to be unseen."

Dean remained unmoved and speechless, and didn't dare to say a thing. He was still waiting for the smiting.

Seraphiel simply continued staring at him, until he brought out a simple smile and laughed at him. This was not a time to start more turmoil in the circles and chose instead to simply let this one time slide, at the unexpected relief of all and anger of his brother behind him.

"You were a pain in his ass you know."

"What?" Dean had to take a second to compute those words, along with a fact that it was a freakin' _topnotch_ angel of the Lord actually saying them. It was quite amusing honestly, but still. Dean started wondering, if maybe he was in an episode of the Twilight Zone or something. Only that could explain all the crap that was happening. And he didn't mean the whole 'the world's gonna end' shnit again. He meant the actual 'you're a pain in his _ass_' thing. _Weird_… "Me? I was a pain in Cas' ass? He was a pain in _my_ ass."

"And yet you still kept him around. Not many us would have done what you did. Or what you're still doing." Seraphiel answered benevolently, the true show of what he was shining right through and proving his worth. He didn't even say it, but Dean already knew, that this angel was actually congratulating him, in earning his honor and respect.

All because he didn't give up on Cas, when all of them actually did. Or at least most of them anyway. _Who would have thought._

Seraphiel simply shook his head in amusement and walked back up to the court, all eyes following him as he reached back up the top and gave Dean one last few carefree words. This truly had to be some alternate universe crap or something. "You're still a pain in his ass you know."

"And he's still a pain in mine." Dean answered back and chuckled to himself, feeling the light hearted feel of the most random scene he's ever experienced and the one that would follow.

Who would have ever thought, an angel who still had his wings and still served God without question could feel and seem so, well…_human_.

The atmosphere soon died down however as he got back down to business, discussing quickly with the council about their plans as everyone else waited patiently for his decision. Jehoel was still the voice of doubt, completely unconvinced that the issue of Legion was even on the table when it required the seven princes of Hell to summon him and Lucifer was still in the Cage. So long as he remained there then there was nothing to worry about he defended, but if Dean knew anything about this type of shit, it was that it always came rolling by when you least expected it. Story of his life. Hell of life in general. Even _they_ had to know that.

No sooner had he thought that did they gain another visitor, Josephine suddenly popping in right beside Gabriel and looking like she had hauled ass just to get there. She was breathing heavily within her vessel and looked almost exhausted, the other angels who had apparently just come from where she was looking just as much as well.

"Josephine?" Elizael asks her, taking in her almost gaunt appearance and the hidden fear behind her eyes. Something big has happened, and she dreads that it may be what they have feared the most. It takes but on word, to confirm it.

"Josephine, what is it?" Dean asks, taking in the gaze of her eyes as she looks back at him, chest still heaving up and down in effort.

"Lucifer," she replies with a heavy breath, throwing worry at Elizael and then at Seraphiel as she mouthed her next words. It's what they've all been dreading, and it is only now that the truth has come to light. "Lucifer is not in the Cage."

"How is that possible?" Cahetel asks, the look of fear in her own vessels brown eyes matching theirs as she looks down at the Guardian angel delivering the message. It is but unfathomable, but even she can see, that Josephine tells the truth. "It can't be."

"That's not all. Lucifer's not the only one." The entire place stays quite, as Josephine makes her final confession. It is indeed what they have all feared, and now, it is what they have come to fear the most. "Michael is gone too."

The room is left completely silent, robed in utter disbelief and shock. It is only now do the angels see, what they've always known but failed to acknowledge. It is the man behind the curtain, and it's now a fact that they must all face. No one can say a word, and it is only Dean who can manage to speak. There are no truer words, more than his.

"_Aw Hell_."

**To Be Continued…**

**Authors Notes:** If you could please let me know what you guys think or expect to happen I'd really appreciate the insight. I've unfortunately been having random moments of doubt lately which I HATE with a passion but threw the finger at and managed to finally calm down a bit lol. I deleted this chapter completely after writing up 4000 words or so and then my muse just _had_ to go even further and start going back chapter to chapter and go deleting crazy on them too, chapter 22 especially. I don't know why, but considering the feedback I got I decided that the majority of you thought it was just fine as it is and just left it alone. I even stopped everything altogether for a couple days just so I wouldn't do something I'd regret later hehe. So no worries, everything is safe lol. For now. :P

Also, I've still been getting a couple messages and mentions in reviews from you guys telling me that you could not review or even got your alerts and such, so I have contacted FF . net tech supporters to look into it should my account be faulty. Shouldn't happen again after that. A couple notes on this chapter and I'll be done I swear. First unexpected surprise; the scene I put out between Seraphiel and Dean was totally random and unintentional in my mind, but I wanted to lighten him up a little bit since he seemed kind of uptight at first in my opinion. I don't where the heck it came from, but I decided the Hell with it and left it be lol.

Also a small note, for those of you who recognize Elizael from my very first SPN story "When Our Prayers Go Unanswered", that is an AU from this story so she's not actually Castiel's guardian here. I don't plan to use her in this story's sequel either which will have more kickassery and pure mayhem from Dean and Cas' point of view hehe. She is simply just an OC that serves to cover loopholes that I need taken care of just as the OC Josephine is. The only relationship I strictly want to focus on is Dean and Castiel's. I'm just giving you guys a heads up so that I don't confuse you lol. And as for this sudden turn with Michael, that won't be revealed until the sequel either. I still need to keep some form of suspense. Thanks again, now go and leave your feedback for me to muse over. Thank you again for everything guys. :P And Happy Holidays! :D


	25. Chapter 25

**Authors Note:** First and foremost, reason why this came out so much later than intended is because of this little fact: my muse is a freakin' rebel (that and I was shortly addicted to crack [not the drug people, the genre lol] so my fic "Party" was taking my attention a bit as well), and after weeks of hounding me about chapter 22 being too sappy and not insightful enough and too freakin' OOC and just plain **wrong**, she had me go back and tweak and re-write and go plastic surgery overload on the ENTIRE damn thing. And it was the chapter where I got the most reviews on too! Damn it! I'm satisfied with it now though, so is she, and I have chosen that I like it so much better than before and even _before_ before when it was at 7000 words that I even deleted the document both from FF . net and my computer so that I didn't change anything else. Now that makes me the damn rebel in this crazy as heck relationship. Booyah! Haha. XD

Second little note and I'll be through I swear. Favorite soundtrack for this chapter has got to be Ain't No Grave by Johnny Cash (though Final Hour came to a very CLOSE second hehe, I can thank **Apollo199199** aka BetaArtemis and her video "Toy Soldiers" for that and jumpstarting my muse again). It's the only song in this entire story where I actually imagined the scene going in slow-mo lol, and that will be the scene where we get to see the angels march into battle. Hope it does justice for you all. I really tried getting into as much detail with it as possible. I was also listening to another song I was recently introduced to while writing this, but I won't give it away because I've chosen it to be the last one. The song to bring the whole story together and to a final sweet closeout (even though it would have been perfect for chapter 22 too). I can again thank **Apollo199199** for this song too lol. Enjoy now, and as always, reviews are sugar to my soul. Sorry to those who still have trouble being able to review. I've contacted support twice and have gotten nada, so apologizes for that. All I can say is that you may need to refresh the page and maybe it'll help. I've been having the same problem with reviewing others stories too so, yeah. Thank you to everyone who has stuck with me this far. ;D Onto the chapter!

**Written:** 16 December

**Soundtrack(s):** Final Hour by X-Ray Dog, Aint' No Grave by Johnny Cash, Back in Black by ACDC

**Special Soundtrack:** Times by Tenth Avenue North (whole chapter)

**Word Count:** 1900+

"_Wisdom is better than weapons of war: but one sinner destroyeth much good."_

Ecclesiastes 9:18 – The Bible

**Chapter 25**

_Their savior is gone. Their Father, unknown. The ultimate weapon now lies in they, in the forces they now carry and the hearts they hold dear. It is a destiny, one meant to play but unsure will be fulfilled. It has not been seen, cannot be undone and is unable to be stopped. God has asked this, has made this trial in their name, and they will be the ones to walk it. It is they who will bring upon their victory, or die trying in their demise. _

_The truth has been awoken, and it is in He, that all things are made possible._

_In this they _must_ believe._

…

_Everything had been gathered. Every being, every piece and every necessity had all been brought down to this. There was but one thing left, one final piece to bring it all together, and they had finally been able to attain it. All they needed was his soul, and the rest would fall in place. They had gained their chance, the opportunity to have their turn at rile, and it was all thanks to he that they had accomplished it._

_The angels waste no time despite protest, each one unfurling themselves and filling the air with sounds of beating wings. They swoop down, racing through the sky and towards the gates and blasting their way in until it is nothing but a pile of broken and twisted metal. It's war, no matter how many ways you tried to put it it was, and it was time to take the lead whether or not the orders were given. God is not with them, at least not in the physical sense and this they do not need to be told. He is with them spiritually however, this they all know and feel it pulsing in the very thing that makes them who they are._

_Dean feels it too, the grace threading through his soul and reaching out throughout himself that makes him feel whole. God is with them, has been since the beginning, and no proof of that is needed anymore. He got his answer the moment he touched base, the second he became complete and one with his angel. The moment he realized he loved him, and what that love actually meant. Dean couldn't deny it even if he wanted to, and there was no chance in all Hell, Heaven, Purgatory or Oblivion that he was going to lose that. He couldn't, and not just for his sake. Castiel had learned to take a chance, and it was Dean who had chosen to give it to him._

_Through this bond alone, he can grant it without question._

…

_They pass through in a haze, beating their ways through the deepest chasms and heaviest chains as they take Perdition. It's hollow, a vast array of emptiness and solitude and lack of any movement. This they know is the worst of signs, and as they pass the Cage Dean can't help but notice its state. He takes in the broken barriers, the shattered seals and twisted metal, signs of the struggle that has happened and evidence of that who had lost. Lucifer had fought hard, but in the end could not prevail. There is no sign of Michael, whether outside or even from within, and Dean can't help but turn to Sam momentarily to take in the look on his brothers face. It's hard, one of determination and not of memories once torturous to himself and that he deemed once real. Sam does not go back to that moment, when he threw himself into the Cage and took on the beatings of his captors, and never thinks to relish on that moment. Dean can't help but feel proud of him, and takes the lead amongst the flock along with him._

_Hell has gathered its troops. Demons and angels fight. They will take it _all_ on, all in His one name._

* * *

><p><em>The soul resting inside is one of great importance. This is what Bobby sees when he look down at the young man beside him. Castiel just appears to be sleeping, grateful and undisturbed rest with just a tinge of sadness. Something big is coming, a battle that they have no foreseeable future in and one that no one can rectify. It's a blank page, one that has yet to be written or cast out or thought upon. Only it <em>has_ been thought upon, by many in fact, and it is only now beginning to unfold. Castiel is but one piece of it, Bobby and the boys are as well, and even the demon that watches the fallen angel beside him plays a part. It's one not even he will get or understand, but for once in his many centuries he will actually do something to right a wrong. He doesn't know it yet, but it is he who will break it all,_

…_only to take away more in the end._

_For now they just wait here, waiting for the next step to begin._

* * *

><p><em>The angels fly past Hell's every gates, crash through their barriers and flock to their shores, all with the Winchesters at the front of the stockade. Dean takes the lead, thinking about the few angels that have stayed behind from the fight. It is they who must remain, should there be a form of relapse and they do not return. Chuck is one of them. He has stayed behind to serve as record keeper until they can come back, but only if they <em>do_ come back. It's strange though, for a moment like this to remind the hunter of a long since forgotten future, a future filled with dead things and even more dead people, a future he does not wish to see. He would have preferred some stayed out of this fight, but not even he can change the will of those who choose not to. They are all in this war now, and he will gladly take it, without doubt._

_They finally reach their destination, taking in the darkness and the lack of light, other than the ones that shine from their hearts. Dean takes the lead once more, taking a step towards their enemies and finding his brother and Claire right beside him. Gabriel appears as well, a spark of light manifesting in mid air and following him step for step. Their swords are ready, their approach joined as one, their determination evident. They are here to fight, to win their war and save their brethren. But above all they here to stop them, to destroy their last filth and rid the world of them. This is what they wish, and it is what they will get._

_A leviathan simply smiles at the approach, watching them march on in the hopes of destroying their infamy. It is already too late, this they do not need to say, and their want to defeat them will be nothing but futile. The leviathan raises but one hand, finding the ground behind him move as boulders of rock rise from the surface and reveal their contents. Amongst them are seven beings, six that will feed him and one that is the bounty. He simply smiles back at them, watching their gazes as each one is raised, their powers collected and enhanced as it is sucked into that one man. It's pure darkness, a black so intense there cannot be a name, and it is all but one master they must serve._

_Legion, for he is many._

_The angels take on this act in futility, watching as the princes are devoured and fed into this one monster. Lucifer, the being of Pride. __Mammon, the being of __Greed__. Asmodeus, the being of __Lust__. Satan, the being of __Wrath__. Beelzebub, the being of __Gluttony__. Belphegor, the being of __Vanity and Sloth. And lastly,__ Leviathan, the being of __Envy__. They all gather as each one is taken, forming as one and taking their place as the one in front holds out a light, the soul they collected pulsing in his palm. Dean feels himself sweat, recognizing the spirit that he holds and shakes as it is pushed in, devoured by the monster that they have all feared would rise. He takes his turn last, turning back and stepping forward as he is devoured too. The last of the leviathan have been claimed, all through a simple mist as the others have been, and he is now made whole._

_The ground shakes, the earth quakes, the entity of evil can now be risen and he has what's been taken. He manifests himself, taking on the form of the one who helped start it all and will bring some to their knees. He is but a replica, a shadow of what he truly is, but it does not change the fact of what they see. The smile on his face, the piercing blue of his eyes, the dark of his hair, the pale of his skin. It's all him, simply just an image but of him nonetheless. Dean feels his heart breaking, watching as his friend is taken and brought out in this way. Cas has always been naïve in his eyes, an innocent being with nothing but respect, loyalty and truth, even in his recent times, and he has been brought down to serve as this. A simple mirage, with the need of a look and the form of a monster. This body is not real, but it doesn't make it easier. Dean already knows, that he will have to kill it. Even if it hurts him, he doesn't have a choice. That is not his Castiel, and he will not believe it. The soul he holds may be, but this man that stands before him, certainly is not._

_He simply steps down, tugging at the sleeves of his dark jacket and even darker shirt, the black tie he sports a perfect collaboration with the rest of his suit and a perfect layout nonetheless. He has dreamed of this moment for so long, and to have it finally come to light is nothing short of a miracle. He actually smiles at himself as he thinks that, the grin a playful yet mocking gesture. He is not here to play games. He is not here to judge. He is not here to take challenge. He is simply here to walk, and that he will do. He does not want them, and so he will not use them. He will but kill them, and destroy them he shall. He takes one step forward, and looks down at the being he most sees. The brightest of the flock, and the most lethal of them all. Not because of strength or power, that's not it at all. But because of valor. Of poise. Of righteousness. Because of what he holds and for those he holds it for. In this he must see, and it's in this, that he cannot judge. This man is a special one, and a special one indeed._

"Hello, Dean."

_He does not say a word, for it is already said for him. This will be his greatest challenge, and one that they must face. It is here that they must fight, and it is, that the world will know their right. Destiny can be cruel, but Fate, Fate is the one who holds all the cards._

Fuck.

**To Be Continued…**

**Authors End Note:** Believe it or not, Lucifer and Satan are two separate people, not the same entity as I previously thought. Didn't know that until I did the research. Who knew. I also learned a lot more about Lilith, her ties to the Archangel "Samuel", the true story of Adam and Eve (Lilith was actually Adam's first wife believe it or not. Scary thought) and _so_ much more that it's not even funny. Needless to say I had to stop before I went back and started changing things I didn't want to touch again. I'm just gonna leave things as I believe them and stick to that.

Anyways…so this chapter came out much shorter than I thought it would be, but hey, I deleted a lot that I thought wasn't necessary and could wait until the sequel so I figured what the heck. I also didn't think I'd go with this approach, with simply just thoughts and not much action, but 'meh' is the term so I will just stick with this instead. Goal to reach for the very end of this story is 100 reviews to be truthful. If I were ever that lucky, I'd play the lottery more often lol. Only 3 more chapter left and then the epilogue with the fluffy preview of the next story. You've been given fair warning. Now go review please. If you can lol. Thank you again to all, and happy holidays. :P


	26. Chapter 26

**Authors Note(s):** First of all, a tribute, to Jim Beaver who played Bobby Singer on our favorite hunting brothers TV show. TV Guide spoilers have confirmed that Jim Beaver is indeed done with Supernatural hence so is his character, hunter and father figure extraordinaire Bobby. Rumors from the network claim that he'll be back in some form or another, but at this point I'm not holding my breath anymore. I've done that enough really. Sigh. He will surely be missed by me and as I'm sure by many of us here. Thanks for seven years of awesomeness Jim. You will truly be a missing aspect in this show as well as its development. Hope to keep you alive here, as all us writers do. I shall go live in my denial now lol. :)

On a more personal note, I'm very sorry this chapter took so long to get out. This story and I kind of had a bit of a falling out and after some careful planning and re-write and grammar corrections along with any spelling mistakes throughout this thing (they won't be posted till later since they're small), I found myself ready to continue and hence finally finish this chapter up. I hope it did you all some justice since I'm really quite proud of it even if it didn't pan out as _originally_ planned. And for those of you who read already, yes I had posted the first 3500 words of this but after two days took it down cause let's face it, my muse can be a real prude lol. I am forever at her servitude. Kind of like a crossroads contract. :P Also, another character introduction here. Two actually, and it's the final ones.

And finally, special notes to point out on soundtracks (you can skip this if you can't read with music playing lol; I find it helps): All Along the Watchtower by Jimi Hendrix obviously represents the beginning with Legion. Don't know why, but this song really hit me up when I was writing him in the beginning. All the Way For You by Poets of the Fall will be for the final scene between Castiel and Gabriel. It'll become obvious as you read and listen to it should you do. Buried Beneath by RED follows directly after that with Dean, Castiel and Gabriel, and the final desperate sacrifice. Again, will become obvious once you get to that part. As for the final track, Holding On and Letting Go by Ross Copperman, this pretty much represents the end of the fight and brings the entire ordeal full circle here. At least it did for me. I can thank **Apollo199199** for introducing me to three of the four, **Scoobert0** for showing me 'Buried Beneath' and finally **WhatTheFuckHaveYouDoneLately** for 'This is War'. This was the soundtrack that actually got my muse to go back and actually finish this while Buried Beneath gave me the incentive to go through with what was actually planned. The tones were perfect, and so they got me back into the mood I needed. Thank you again for all the support. I hope I didn't bore you. Now go off and enjoy what I hope is a piece of epicness in your eyes. It certainly got under my skin. Allons-y. :)

**Written:** 27 December

**Soundtrack(s):** All Along the Watchtower by Jimi Hendrix, All the Way For You by Poets of the Fall, Buried Beneath by RED, Holding On and Letting Go by Ross Copperman

**Special Soundtrack:** This is War by 30 Seconds to Mars (entire chapter)

**Word Count:** 13400+

"_For I verily, absent in body, but present in spirit, have judged already, as though I were present, concerning him that hath so done this deed,…"_

Corinthians 5:3 – The Bible

**Chapter 26**

_Anger. Rage. Jealousy. Sorrow. Hate. Envy. Pride. All emotions we carry, and all emotions that we flush. They can bring us pain, they can bring us justice, they can even enact revenge and enable us on a path that we cannot turn around from. They are but a vice, an excuse in which to use to actually act upon ourselves, to gain what it is we want, and to show what it is we feel. It is only but a veil, to cover up our truths and our lies and our misdeeds. We find it makes it easier, when in fact it makes it harder. We drive ourselves down this path, and it's one we can't come back from._

_The ultimate evil now walks our lands, and now it graces our laps._

_It's curtain call. _

_It's __**our**__ time._

* * *

><p>The form he took was one of insult. One of turmoil and one of suffering. It is but a misery, and he graced it now with one of despair. He cherished it, loved it, couldn't help the smile that creased his face as he took in all their looks. He was taunting them, egging them, begging them to make a move and get it over with so that he could start the slaughter. Dean would give the most, this he didn't need to pry to know, and it was him that he focused on in his attempt to kill them all. Dean was the leader, the Chosen One, and it was he that would start the collapse. The first domino to topple that would bring with him all the others. All he needed was for him to fold, and the others would fall as well.<p>

He took but one step forward off the pyre, graciously making his way down the chiseled stone steps and keeping gaze at the ground until he met with their piercing eyes. His hands now lined his pockets, simple fists now clenched inside and toothless smile still flashing his features. He had been ready for this, waiting for it, and the opportunity had finally come. It was time to show the one and true God, just exactly where to shove it, and he would do it with his one and only golden toy. It was Dean, had been the entire time, and if there was any way to show God just how much he didn't control it all…

…_this was the __**perfect**__ way to do it._

…

He finally stops, walking just feet past the final step and looks onward, taking on every angel and warrior and leader graced with celestial intent. He knows their purpose, can feel the goals radiating from their hearts, and only deems to smile teasingly at the foolishness. It's an empty faith they hold, a mockery of that in which they usually have when knowledge of their Father's presence is real, but in his absence, it would seem that some of that faith has been lost. It is his perfect opportunity to lash out on them, and it is in He that he will crush their spirits. It will begin with Dean, as has always been the plan. The soul inside him feels this, and only manages to curl in despair. It actually makes him happy, to know what he will do, and it only makes him angry, to know what he cannot…

_It is he that he will crush first. With the greatest weapon he has yet to show._

"You know Dean, I expected more of a 'Welcome Home' party from you. I really did."

His voice is calm and smooth, so unlike the one they are used to, and the brothers and Claire actually find themselves feeling sad at the absence of its gravel. It's icy. Tasteless. Just a cold and far echo from what they know. It only makes them suffer, and relived, knowing that it isn't him. It always makes the kill easier.

"Sorry if I didn't seem to get your RSVP then. Must have gotten lost in the mail."

Castiel was unique, and to have his form be played like this, was one of total nightmare. He gave a simple head tilt, more sharp and neck breaking than cute and bird like, and Dean actually found himself cringing. This was not the form he expected him to find, but it's just wrong that it is as well. Castiel is one of grace, and the man before him is one of horror. The electricity he puts off is massive, declining, and absolutely piercing. He is only but a monster, an abomination, and it actually hurts him that he has to die like this, with beautiful blue eyes staring right at him.

"I really thought I'd get more of you Dean," he repeats, but lacks the sentiment that he wants. It's simply but a taunt, and it's meant to strip him bare. "If you're not feeling up to it that's okay. We can have fun in other ways. I can take it all out on you if you want. Or I can even take it out on him. All I need, is for you to make the call."

And if the smile on his face didn't already make his stomach churn, the smooth talking, wicked sound of his words made up for much of it. Dean was not impressed, but he was not very much insulted either. He knew what it was he really meant, and only made his anger grow.

"Go to Hell."

"Oh I plan to, trust me. But only as the one and true ruler of that _rat_ infested sinkhole. You can tell your friend Crowley about shoving that title up his own ass, cause there's a _new_ man on campus, and he's not exactly willing to share with two faced lying snakes if you catch my drift."

Dean felt sick as the man before him slightly chuckled, watching his friend, _**no**_, a simple manifestation of his friend, staring right back at him with cold dark eyes and an even darker stare, his features dull and tight instead of bright and carefree, even with the relaxed expression. This wasn't Cas, didn't look anything like him other than the face, but Dean knew this wasn't him; felt it in his bones. He may have had his body, but he was nowhere close in spirit.

It brought him back to that moment, the second he witnessed Castiel's punishment at the hands of those four angels, and how they had brought out a ghost of himself to torture him, to make him believe that it was done. _But it wasn't_. Cas had already known that, felt it, simply because he already knew who Dean really was. He _promised_ him that. This wasn't his Castiel, wasn't his angel or his friend. This wasn't who he cared about or he chose to fight for. There was no reason to hesitate. No reason to question or explain.

_But even a ghost can cause you harm, and this one gripped him to his bones. _

It wasn't what he wanted, but it was only what he saw.

Dean wanted to get him back, if it took everything he had. And it was only then, at that very same moment, when he saw what it was he knew…how it came to be…what it was he felt, that he truly _absolutely_ realized, as he grasped onto his being. He _had_ been beside him. And had been all along.

* * *

><p>It took so much time for anyone to even utter a word, the two greatest beings there simply just staring as if trying to figure the other out. It was a test, a trial, and one that neither one wanted to lose. Both had great risks on the line, and both were willing to go as far as they had to put the battle in their favor. Surely and truly, <em>anything<em>.

The human will was still a mystery, even with his own, but evil was always the same, whether you looked at it or not. Evil never changed. Evil never walked on the line. And evil never won. So long as you had something to fight for, Dean knew what it was he came for. He came to fight, and it was a fight he would _win_.

More chilling moments passed, before either one said a word.

"You know what's the same about all you monsters?" Dean asked, taking in the blank look on Legion's face. If he didn't know any better, he would have thought he was angry. "You never seem to take the hint. That there's always something bigger out there. Better. More powerful than you are, and that there's some of us out there to kill you. You really think you've got it, and it only makes it better, when I finally get to see your true face. And yours, I plan to strip till it's bare. Because I know it's all about you, and I know what makes you tick."

Only another heavy moment of silence passed between them, before Legion chose, to take it all apart.

He smiled, chuckled almost as he listened to his words, and it only caused an even wider grin to grace his face as he stared back at him. This one was a funny one, which would only make his death that much more fun. _That_ he would make sure of.

"You know Dean, your attitude just _astounds_ me. You convince yourself, of all these things, and yet the truth is laying itself right in front of you. And on a silver platter of all things. Why do you keep lying to yourself all the time? Just so you can convince _yourself_? That's kind of sick and twisted don't you think." He simply paced a bit, clenching his hands in his pant pockets tighter before staring back at the hunter turned angel.

He may have been a clever one, but even he had his own choices, and even he had his sufferings. Dean may claim to know what breaks, but it was who had it all in his hands, and Dean already _knew_ this.

He was right about one thing. Sometimes Dean did tend to look at the positive things first instead of the negative, when it came to those he loved of course, but in his mind it was only the beginning of a mending and not of something he was willing to lose. Dean loved his family, cared about his loved ones and Cas had become a part of that circle. Dean wasn't going to give up on him, couldn't if he tried, and wasn't going to let some no good, Armani wearing, flaunty hissing, extremely pompous _ass_ tell him otherwise.

Funny how he thought 'assbutt' at the very last second and actually had him chuckle softly for just a moment. Legion of course caught that, and wasn't at all amused. Again, no reason to think positively when you were gonna die today.

"You think you can get him back. Don't you?"

Legion didn't even pose or joke this time, and looked at him straight in the eye. Dean felt down his stare, could sense the evil that rose behind it as it burned and froze down his back, but he refused to back down and simply sneered, his jaw tight and clenching. He would prove this asshole otherwise, or at the least, would _**die**_ trying.

"Yeah. I do."

A simple pause is all he gives, and his next words are more than enough to split any land in two. Dean feels the iciness of them travel down his spine, plunge into his stomach and freeze him at his skin. It causes him to shudder, and the effect alone is felt amongst much of the flock. All angels are at the ready, and it is time they meet their match.

"Well then, let the games begin shall we? I'm gonna have to show you just how wrong you are Dean, cause someone really, _really_ has to."

It's almost sad like, the look on his face as he stares him back down. He would have thought it justified, that the being he felt was nothing but an empty shell, but this man had been different. This one had been rare. This one was the golden egg, and he didn't need to share.

Legion lifts his hand, the crowd before him expecting his attack, a blast of raw power to be thrown their way and to send them to oblivion. But to their surprise instead they find him just standing there, eyes closed and mouth moving slightly, head bowed down in concentration. Dean doesn't know what to make of it, isn't even sure what to say as both he and Sam look onwards, the brothers listening as he chants and hands grasping swords tighter; words of languages long since dead rolling off his tongue.

The ground starts to shake, break apart and crack as his intentions start to plow. They don't know what is happening, can't begin to unravel it, but get an answer soon enough as Legion simply starts to grin. He lets the words still leave his lips, as he stares right back at Dean.

"You think you've got him so safe. I know the piece he hides in you. Just like the piece you hide in him. It's obvious, cause I can see it. I'm gonna take it from him, and this time…you won't have _anything_ to protect."

Dean knows it's just a bluff, or at the very least believes it, but even he still can't help his knees from shaking at the thought. He knew the reason, knew the purpose behind his taunt, and was more than well aware that the two of them shared a connection that even he couldn't break. Dean knew that Cas was a part of Legion, and that Legion was part of Cas, and there would be no way to stop it, not without some form of loss. He could only hope the loss didn't come from him.

…

Bobby remained staring down at the ground, watching the young man still on it breathing in and out very slowly. He can't believe he's in there, knowing that he hides here, seeing what it's like. Their link is so precious, so incredible and yet so sensitive. He can't even begin to explain what it is he feels when he touched it, but then again it's his soul he had in his hands. Dean knows what he's doing, and he can hope he does. He's never had doubt, but even experienced hunters can have moments where they think they've bitten off more than they can chew. This is one of those times, but then again Bobby isn't the one doing the chewing. He can only just sit here, watching, hoping to God that they make it back. If they don't, then he truly will find himself in a predicament.

"I hope you know what you're doing kid."

* * *

><p>Legion draws on his power, feeling the being that he wishes to take and the soul in which it resides. Castiel is his, always has been since the beginning, and now he will get his other half and share with him what he needs. Legion pulls on him, the chasm around them shaking and splitting as he just simply stands there, his smile wide over his features and heart leaping in triumph. Or at least it would be if he had one. He can feel him, see him, and it's on this spirit that he latches onto. It's like the sweetest honey, the most forbidden fruit, and it's one he wants a taste of…<p>

…

Bobby continues watching along with his companion, feeling the sudden shakes and violent tremors that start to rock the ground. Something is happening, coming for what it is they protect and this they know for sure.

Their peace is interrupted, the house shaking and ground quaking as a surge of power so strong meets his doors. He simply stands there, praying that the wards will hold, and can feel the magic spread and break into the defenses that graced his home. The shield they have may be cracking, but still they hold their ground.

Bobby knew this was wrong, had a feeling that this wouldn't be good if they managed to get in, and even Crowley, still remaining outside the door knew the answer. Legion, the monster of all hells was coming for what was due and what he believed to be his.

But they had already counted on that, knew that he would try, and had already prepared for what they hoped would not be a futile act.

The blood seal had been placed around him, the protective wards now set, the bond he shared hopefully strong and the link they kept unbreakable. It was enough to keep him at bay, enough alone to protect him, and enough for them to hold on. Legion may have been a _monster_, maybe even the worst of them all out there, but not even he could underestimate the power of that he misunderstood the most. They had counted on this moment…

…_and they had won_.

With simply just a surge of light, it had all screamed and was gone. The seal bounces him right off, and leaves nothing but rejection in its wake.

The quakes cease. The noise stops. The power disappears. Bobby simply stares at Crowley, who can only smile back at the pathetic human as he picks himself up off the ground in just one moment. It's almost amusing, were the atmosphere not already feeling so victorious and electrically light around them.

"I would believe my dear Robert, that's your prayers being answered."

Bobby simply heaves out a heavy sigh, before quietly replying back to him. "Amen to that."

_And here they said chivalry was dead._

* * *

><p>Legion stopped dead in his tracks, his head lifting and eyes glaring as he wondered what had happened. He had had him, had felt Castiel in his clutches, but for some reason unknown couldn't seem to lay a finger on him. He knew where he was, could sense the presence of magic that surrounded him around the South Dakota home, but still that didn't change the fact that they were linked yet couldn't be pulled apart. Legion believed that he had taken it, had had it in his hands, but had been hit instead with a wall, and with more than just a nasty surprise.<p>

He looked back at Dean, who had a more than just a smirk filled look on his face. If he had the power to do so right now, he would rip it off in a heartbeat.

"Having trouble getting it up? Bitch."

And if he weren't already so shocked, he may have killed him then and there too.

"How is this possible?"

"Easy _dick_." Dean replied, his own smirk growing bigger as Legion's confidence only faltered. Legion had not expected this, and to him was an advantage, that he was not _willing_ to lose. "Cas is carrying my blood. Has been for a while now, and he's immune to your effects because of the seal we have him in. It's the most powerful magic we could find, the one _you_ can't even hold; the best and perfect one just to keep him alive."

And it became more than abundantly clear to him that the angels behind him actually looked proud at the fact. It was old magic, _their_ magic, and one they used with pride to mistake their enemy. He had been tricked, and they would keep doing so, until the second he fell by their blades. His next words, finally caused his own spine to shiver, both in anger and disappointment.

"Because of that…_you can't _**touch**_ him_." Dean simply smiles at him, mouthing 'sorry' at the end.

…

He should have known, knew everything that Castiel knew, and the only explanation possible for this unforeseen event was but a simple answer: _Castiel had not been made aware. Did not know that he carried Dean's blood. Had no knowledge of the act, whatsoever._

This actually had his limbs tensing in rage, and caused his lips to purse. He began to wonder if perhaps there were other facts that he may not have had access to, simply Castiel did not have them to give. Things that not Castiel did not know, which would lead him to a great disadvantage. And Legion, did _not_ like being at a disadvantage. **Ever**.

"You flow through his veins." It didn't take a genius to figure that out, but even he had to admit that he underestimated that little fact. That the fact that Castiel had been so badly injured after his rescue that he required such an assistance, and Dean had been the one to give it to him. His blood flowed through him, which made the bond stronger and the seal practically impenetrable. Through this alone he was safe. "Son of a bitch."

"I guess God does work in mysterious ways huh?"

And Dean actually looked honestly proud to say it, considering he never would have thought the act of saving Cas in that manner would benefit so much more past the original intention. It was simply just a gift in his eyes, or maybe even a miracle. Either way he's take it, and he would take it gratefully.

Legion didn't see it that way, and actually found himself getting even more annoyed by the young hunter. It was clear that this one had a mouth on him, but also a heart that beat like no other. This human was definitely special, and he found himself actually cringing in disgust.

"I guess I'm gonna have to send him a fruit basket for that."

"You go ahead. Send my regards while you're at it."

"I'll be sure to do that, right after I kill you and your little party here and serve your head on a silver platter in the center of my table. You'd make a beautiful centerpiece, Dean Winchester."

Dean felt his hand tightening around the hilt of his sword and it burning, feeling the rage of its master and determination blazing inside his heart. Dean wasn't going to be the one to die today, not this time, not this way. He had someone to protect, billions even, and he wasn't going to allow himself to be fallen just like that. He had a reason to live, someone back home to live for, and a friend for him to count on. Castiel was worth all of this, every last second, and this he told himself repeatedly. Dean wouldn't give up, only because Castiel never had.

* * *

><p>"Well this is turning out interesting."<p>

"That it is my friend."

"How long do you think it'll take before he figures it out?"

"Not long. To be quite frank, I'm surprised he hasn't done so already."

"Oh I'm sure he has. He's just waiting for when he can use it."

"Well then, we'll just have to wait until our number comes up. Won't we?"

A simple pause goes between them, before the elder answers back.

"That we shall."

The two figures simply stand there, one with his hands resting in his pockets and the other on his cane, watching as the exchange unfolded.

* * *

><p>Legion actually found himself grinning again as he read Dean's thoughts, his mouth falling as a chuckle escaped his lips. He was amused, almost tauntingly so, and he figured now was as good a time as ever to let it out. It was sad really, but somebody had to say it. The two of them had obviously been keeping it from each other, but as it turned out, they really hadn't hidden anything at all. It actually made him sick to his stomach, but, it was just one of those things that he didn't get. He never understood the meaning of love, and really, couldn't even care to. As a monster, there was no place in him to even try.<p>

"It's _so_ sad. The feelings you hold for him. He holds them for you too you know. It's almost enough to make me want to puke. Although…," He paced, lifting his hand to point a finger in the air before placing it on his lips, looking as if he were thinking about what he wanted to say next.

It made them all uneasy, but it still didn't discourage Dean in the slightest. The guy could say all he wanted about the bond he shared with the former angel, fallen angel or not, if only just to reveal to him what he already knew. Legion felt it, saw it all, and wanted to put it out there in perspective as best he could. Maybe he could get some answers out of the things he didn't get quite yet, and forge them into insight. Then again, Dean could use some of that too.

"I can't quite put my finger on it. With you two it's so…_complicating_. So surreal yet, so different. It's like you two had been made for each other, even before either one of you ever existed. It's strange…. But I guess God just made it that way. Didn't he?"

He silently mocked him, waited for the hunter to throw a taunt or curse his name or even launch attacks, but to his surprise he did not one, and simply smiled back instead. He might as well get this shit off is chest too, while he still had the chance to.

"Yeah you see. That's what you don't get." And Dean actually found himself smiling at the thought. Honestly and truly smiling.

_Truth be told he didn't get it really either. At least not yet, he didn't._

"Cas isn't just some angel who pulled me out of Hell and gave me back my life. He's so much more than that, and it's only because of all those times he annoyed me and I picked on him and even the times where we wanted to kick each other's asses and actually managed to, something happened." Dean said softly, before his voice roughed up and grew aggressive towards him, almost protective. "I don't know how. I don't know when. And even I don't really get it. But something _did_ happen. Cas became something to me that has rarely ever occurred in my life and I apparently did the same in return, whether it was intentional or not. Hell him _rebelling_ was a huge sign, and even then I didn't see it. But at least…now I do."

He had confessed it. Said the words and admitted the feelings, even if those feelings weren't exactly clear yet. He felt anger, he felt frustration, he even felt pity but above all he felt joy. Maybe this was what it felt to be happy. Take the good with the bad, even if there was more bad than anything. Cas had betrayed them, had lost his trust and gained it back, as difficult as it was. It didn't matter though. What mattered was that he had gained it. Lost it but gained it, and in true Winchester fashion, forgiveness was always a given, because sometimes the fight ended in a tragedy, and they had lost so much already. Dean wasn't going to allow this lookalike to tear everything he had worked hard towards away. He wanted his friend back, and would kill this bastard if he had to just to get him back.

Dean started walking towards him, carefully watched by his brother and Claire and all the other angels who were ready to fight him. Legion was the threat, the one and only one at their mercy, and if it cost them all their lives to simply shove him back then they would accept it. God had put him down millennia ago for a reason. In His name, they would all do it again. All for Him.

Dean was now just feet away from him, and if he didn't know any better, he would have thought that Legion didn't like him being in his personal bubble, hated his space to be invaded like how he was doing. Another reason to smirk in amusement.

"Now I can't say that I get it either, not by a fucking long shot," Dean continued, parting his hands in front of him as he slowly approached him further. He actually noticed him take a half step back, and stopped himself right there, making his own stand. "But there's no way in Hell that I'm letting you get away with everything you've done to him. Everything you're about to do. Cas is coming back with me, whether you like it or not, and that…I _swear_ to you."

Dean just tightens on his sword, pressing the blade into one of his fingertips to draw blood before dropping it to his side, and with simply just a glare, slowly unfurls his massive wings and graces them from his back. Dean is more than just a hunter, more than just a human, more than just a former victim of the Pit and the Righteous Man in God's eyes. And tonight, he will show that he is more than just destiny's pawn. He will show them what he is made of, and hopefully, he will show it to himself just as much.

* * *

><p>If there were any current thoughts to ring through their heads it was simply just of this. They had seen many civilizations fall, had more than had their share and had even taken a part in it, but it was simply just the job and position that they held that had given them the right.<p>

Being a horseman had its responsibilities, siding with an angel only made it easier, and far more interesting, and now it would seem that months of planning was coming to a close. Whatever plans had been put out there were no longer astute, and it was time for desperate measure. There was only so much evil that could be here, and frankly, having him around was just too much. So, to be quite frank, it was more than just a moment to finally let themselves known. Life had showed them what it was to feel, and also of course, when justice was more than needed.

God had made a plan, and now they were going to act it. Legion's however, hmm, how was it that he had put it last time? Oh yes…

_It's time to rip the pages, and burn the book. For all of them._

* * *

><p>A flash of light and wings graced upon his form and without even a flinch he managed to take them all out and even more than that. He was at an advantage, hadn't even rallied his troops yet or even called his resources, and frankly, he was only just getting started.<p>

He lunges at them, grabs their swords and twists it backwards, forcing it deep within their forms and watching in wicked fascination as the light explodes the air and feathers grace the earth. They are vulnerable, even at their mightiest they can be weak, and having the memories of one of their own gives him all he needs.

He gives out another lash and brings down even more, their vessels now but piles of flesh and wings of ashy smudge. Dean at first keeps dodging, seeing efforts and more than that of those around him as he is spared. Legion tried his best to take him down, to make sure he'd be the first so that the rest would follow, but each time the moment came it was taken down by yet another and an angel gave their life.

He was needed at the most, to keep them going and continue on and it was what they fought for. Dean can see this, can see it in their eyes as they go down, and it only makes him want to fight that much harder. Legion knows this, can feel it in their graces, and decides instead to entertain them with what he can do.

He draws a hand, stopping suddenly and raising it high as he halts them all in midair. They're kept at bay, floating there as if chained in place, and he finds that it brings back splendid memories, as well as some he'd care to forget. You always started _somewhere_ to get to where you're at. His just so happened to be on the Rack, way back in the pilot days. He has only to turn towards the flock of remaining angels, head turning slowly to look at them all and point back into the crowd. There is one in particular that he wants, one he knows for sure he can take, and this he counts on for his acts. He let a smile grace his face, sinister intent clear in his eyes as he took in his _one_ prize. This one too was also special, was more than just unique, and just the one he needed to begin the final ritual.

He would bring with him the end of days, and he would do it gracefully. At the hands of an angel, and in the most insulting form.

"To start the party off, will the _real_ Gabriel" he points first at Sam, posing as if he would start with him and work his way from there, but just as quickly shifts his eyes to look over at the archangel right beside him and puts up a smile. "_Please_ stand **up**."

Before another thought could be made from them, Gabriel had been lifted from his spot midair and pulled up, chest arching, and swung before Legion in a violent and unpleasant chokehold, his neck grasped onto tightly. What happened next, was too quick for even angels to see.

"I think I'll be starting with you, archangel."

With simply just a squeeze of his hand, Gabriel's true voice is screamed out, the grasp around his throat tightening and pulling the very life out of him. He didn't even fight it, couldn't if he tried, and within mere seconds was reduced to nothing but a faded light, his screams booming out in echo until there was nothing left to give.

The gold of his grace now shone on Legions hand, the fingers curling inwards and absorbing the raw power of his form, making him even stronger. This one had been a treasure to the soul that he now harbored, and he has now just crushed it with only just a tap. It's simply just one move, but one he knows will help him gratefully. And he's only just getting started.

Dean stays there frozen, unable to believe what has just happened and glued to the spot in which he takes. Legion has taken his grace, absorbed it into his vessel, and it appears that it has only made him more invincible. _How could something so _evil_, take in something so good and still be made prevailing by it_?

The angels only watch, as the monster before them slowly starts to take away their faith. His laughter echoes through the earth, cackles deep and heavy and booming hard, and brings down all their joys. This one is a hard one, a more than just powerful being, and maybe, just maybe, he is the one they cannot win against. _God_ had put him down last time, the one and true prevailed, and Heaven knew that He would need to do so once more. Only this time, God wasn't by their sides, and it had forced upon them a cruel decision. Keep fighting, or die trying.

_Perhaps humans did understand more than they did, far more than even the oldest of angels, and in so many ways. They would have to put their belief, all their beliefs, in simply just one._

"Now then, who wants to have the last laugh with me?"

Legion is a monster, and angels grace or _not_, he is an abomination. A foul thing that need be slaughtered, and **must** be taken down!

…

_Gabriel had counted on this moment, knew the only way to get to him back was to allow himself to be taken. The other angels would fight without him, knew of his plans once he had admitted them and were assured of his retrieval. He had let it happen, counted on it, and so he fell in thankfully and found himself where he needed to be. He had made himself deliberately vulnerable, was kind of the only plan, and only for this _one_ chance. To make it all right._

_It felt so much like an ocean, one filled with inky black and slimy ooze, and the moment he felt it and saw the light of his brothers soul shining so very far away, he turned to it. His brother had been his goal, and now he was almost there to reach it._

'_Here we go then…'_

…

"Liking the show so far Dean? You know I've got many more tricks that I can show you than just that one."

And if the joy radiating off his child like face didn't make him all that more sinister, Dean might have actually found it cute. In the terms of 'Chucky' cute that is.

"Funny. And I here I thought there couldn't be anyone cockier than Gabriel." Dean snarled, his anger only growing as the smirk on his face only grew. Legion obviously believed himself to be invincible, and he was only just proving it. "Maybe he's rubbing off on you."

"Oh please. That measly little short stack ain't got nothing on me. He was nothing but a snarky, pompous ass with far less tricks than he gave himself credit for. You wanna find a real Trickster, you're looking right at one."

"You would know wouldn't you."

"Probably. Except that I don't have a heart…which I guess technically he doesn't either. At least not anymore."

He chuckled loud for just a moment, amused at his own joke but quickly dropping the grin he had and focused on his real task. Now that they had seen what he could do, knew that he could take them, no angel was willing to near him unless they could guarantee a hit. Legion had to perish, and at any cost possible. Only the faith in their cause was starting to lose, and doubt again started to set in. Not a one said a word however, all their faiths focusing down on him.

They couldn't let themselves be swayed, were taking on Dean's trust, and wanting nothing more but victory for him. Doubt would lead to fear, and fear could lead to suffering, which all led to chaos. They had all suffered enough in the absence of their Father, and it was time for them to make the choices. Their fight was now for them, also for all of mankind, and all in the name of their one savior. The only form they saw of Him, was of the human right before them.

* * *

><p>"Let's have a little more fun now shall we."<p>

Legion raises both arms, his face hard and lethal and somewhat comical. He releases on their holds, allowing them to fall so that he can focus on his one true task. He begins to draw them in, what many of them know is his ultimate goal, and the fear it brings and joy it gives him makes everything it causes seem that much more worth it. This power is unlimited, dynamic, and more than enough to prove his worth. It will make everything he's asked for an almost total completion, only because of this reason: _It is his _**every**_ resource_.

Dean just looks on, going back to the day where Cas had taken in the souls and bowed his head in triumph as each one proved their power, immersing them in piercing light. This time felt so similar, but also so much more disturbing. This time felt only bad, evil, _wretched_, but more so than any of that, it felt absolutely **sinful**. He only takes the moment to look at his eyes, as Legion stares back at him in regard.

This one act, is for all for him.

"It's time I set you free."

* * *

><p><em>Gabriel finally reaches him, finding the soul veiled in the very center of this monster and being threatened by all those who surround it. The leviathan especially have taken a liking to the light, find it almost irresistible as they flick their tongues and lick their jaws, hoping for a piece. None will get any however, and with just a swipe of his hand Gabriel reduces them to sliced up carcasses and moves them from his line of sight.<em>

_Castiel is unprotected, with nothing but his own small speck of leftover grace to save him and Gabriel knows that it's not enough. More leviathan are coming, swimming through the darkness to devour their next anticipated meal. But Gabriel has another plan and wraps himself behind Castiel, with arms circling around his chest. _

_Castiel is unconscious, forced into a deep sleep by Legion, who holds him down, but Gabriel will not allow his brother to be devoured and so raises his wings to circle them around, encasing the two in a four corner sphere of blue, white and light. With this he'll keep him safe, and alone he'll fight them off._

_Leviathan hit and are instantly diminished, the power of his grace reducing them to ash as each one tries unsuccessfully to thwart their way inside. Gabriel will not allow it, will bet his life on them being unable to get in, and with this goal alone he holds on. Dean will be able to take care of the rest, so long as he is given enough time to do it. That's the plan. For now, all he can do is wait, with his brother held in his arms._

"_Don't worry little bro. I gotcha."_

_More come to thwart his defenses, and Gabriel only goes to show them, the _true_ and fearsome power of an awesome and wrathful archangel._

* * *

><p><em>He draws it all in, every last speck, as the Earth is engulfed in ashy smoke that rises above the atmosphere and falls deep within himself. He can feel it burn his core, transform him in all ways that's demonically possible, and it's the rush he gets knowing that they are all coming to join him that gives him his biggest high. It's a disease, a falling, the final piece to his whole plan that will bring about his need. He's waited for this, looked forward to it, longed again and again and once more over that his time would come; that there'd be nothing left to take. It's in this notion that he can rest, actually grin, knowing that he has ultimately won. Finally.<em>

_The actions finish just as quickly as it did when it had started, the auras that he takes devouring his hub and making him a beast. _

_It's pleasant, a drug so personal and so acute that it actually makes him quiver. It's like his own special brand, and he has taken it all in one sharp and almost lethal dose. He lets the hate consume him, allows the fear and all the hurt to make him whole and force him complete. It's the final curtain call on his part, and it's all he'll ever need to make his grand entrance. _

_Some may call him selfish, but he will call it __**payback**__…_

…

_The smoke finally clears as it is taken all by him, the vortex of the force feeding him inside and leaving him a blistering, shining trophy. _

_He only looks up, allows his arms to fall as his body burns in flames, purple blazes flowing through and shedding into his now blood and rage red eyes. He is but perfection now, nothing less but always more, and it's everything like what he's wanted. He is now completion, a one and perfect Legion, a sinister being so evil and true that it is now empty of all in the world. Every sin and every misdeed has led them all to this, and now it shall be their downfalls._

* * *

><p>The power he feels is absolutely glorious. It's simply just a pulsing rhythm and gives in him a ripple that he never thought he'd have. He simply stands there and takes it in, sees the light flashing from his hands and reaching up his body to settle in his chest. It's exhilarating, quite the rush, and more than just a pleasant buzz. It's a bloodlust, and one he thinks can't be satisfied. He may just lose control, but then again he counts on it.<p>

He makes the low stride toward them, wiping at his hands as the last of his transformation finishes and he can feel good about it. It's almost that of shame that he feels like a burden, but like he once said to his own children and those before him, it's only fun when you've got sin. Another perfect explanation. He is the Creator now, the one and only evil, and it is them that stand in his way of absolute oblivion. Through them alone will he get what he wants, and that is total anarchy.

He walks up, smiling at them, and wonders who will throw out first. Each one just seem to stand there, the remaining flock standing their ground, their swords in hand clasping further between their fingers. It is only but a challenge, never a dilemma, and not so much as a threat. He doesn't feel worried, not even of the Righteous One or what he symbolizes, even though he knows his capabilities.

It's _his_ moment now, and he will go up in a blaze of glory.

…

"What did you do?"

Dean can feel it all around him, can see it gracing through the walls and even in the shadows, that this one being now holds it all and for this he must be fearful. But even fear can have his limits, when will alone is on your side. Only now, will _alone_ may not be enough…

…

"You should be happy Dean. I did your world a favor." He smiles, walking towards them even further.

He simply only graces him, as if he truly believes in what he is and actually finds it justified. He is now the perfect union, the one and only true one, and it's in his reign that he will prove them otherwise. Evil always wins. Always has, even if defeat is given. Things are always temporary, never ever permanent, and this he's proved just more than once. God may have his ant farm, but he will have his universe.

"Demons. Monsters. All ill wills against mankind, even from you Dean and of course, little Claire here. It's all in perfect unison. You've done yourselves a great service, and now, I'll show you why."

Again he simply smiles, bending over slightly to meet the small one face to face, to meet the eyes that God created. There they sit, an icy replica of the one he now possesses, the eyes of blue so vibrant it's almost like an ocean while hers are like the sky, a perfect embodiment of who they all are. This child is a special one, but then again aren't they all.

Claire stands beside him, the human that will determine it all, and feeling the aura of anger he puts off. Dean is in a stance, and it's one he can't let go of.

Legion stands back up, feeling the power that he possesses and the impact that it causes, as well as the power that the two of them now grace. It's not an easy feat for him, to control all the influence he holds, but he takes it gladly and in stride, and through this alone he'll win. They now have nothing left to take them back, and it's all he has to say about that. They should have seen this coming, because quite frankly, it's not like he didn't already do that.

"There's no getting your friend back now Dean. He's as good as dead now that I've crushed what little spirit remained here. Please, just let him go."

Legion actually softly begs, is saddened by it, and knows it for a fact. That seeing what it is and how it is, is only what he wants. Dean is in denial, can be as much as he needs to, but he knows that it's the truth. There is no coming back now, and from this he must despair. The angel is now all gone, completely wasted, and with it he can take what's his.

"I know your sorry ass is full of crap."

With these words, eyes now red and full of fury and then they soften blue, Legion takes it back, and finds himself now actually feeling poignant for him. This one would be fallen, and all at his own hand. All because he couldn't learn to accept; for when to give up.

…_It was time he knew the truth._

…

"I _already_ told you. Castiel is dead. Once I got what I needed I made sure to leave nothing behind. Whatever was left, is in here, and I'm not willing to part with it just like you aren't willing to part with him." He almost looks sincere, a hand across his chest, and if Dean didn't know any better he'd have thought that he was sorry. _Almost_. "Just face it Dean, your efforts to come here have been nothing but wasteful. There's nothing left of him for you to salvage. Please try to understand. There is _nothing _left, okay. Nothing."

…

Dean almost looks defeated, until he graces a smile back himself. The angels left are but a beacon, and with him there they know. He alone will never give in. Dean has proved this time and time again, and he figures, what's one more time for Christ's sake. It's not like he's got anything else to do, other than to save the world.

"Well that's where you'd be wrong. That's what it is that you don't get." Dean almost laughs, as he feels his eyes start welling with small tears. He feels the joy he holds, knowing for a fact that it's untrue, and frankly, it's time he gave the message _right_ back. "You see, this isn't just any grace I'm sportin' around. It's Cas'. And so long as I've got that then I've got something worth fighting for. What do you have?"

And in all sense, Legion finds that he actually has to think about it past his pride, his duty, but comes up with an answer nonetheless to ease his thoughts. He already knew this, could smell the stench of that one angel grace him all over, and it became more than obvious the moment he laid eyes on him. Dean is now his vessel, his charge and his one savior, and he's become them all in one. If all that's needed is a tiny push, he will gladly give him that, if only to show him what it truly is he stands against. Legion has been patient, and it's time he takes it away. Irrevocably.

"I have all I need. But your claim…it's impossible. The soul of a human and the grace of an angel can't intertwine in that matter Dean. It would be a battle of forces. You would ultimately lose and your soul destroyed."

He would know so, from a life so very, very far away. One he barely remembers, if even just at all.

"Yeah. I know about that. Which is why Cas has a little something he didn't have before. And it's the thing that's been keeping him alive. But you already know. Don't you?"

And Legion graces him with still another smile, calling in his bluff and heaving out a small sigh. He should have known that he'd figure it out soon enough, but then again, he only just verified what he already suspected. This one truly was a risk taker, and it would seem that when he put it all out on the line, he gave up _everything_.

"Your soul."

Dean only gracefully smiles back and nods his head, the flock of angels behind him gripping tighter at their swords. They had planned this from the beginning, new it to be the only solution, and even with the risk they had taken it, seeing no other options and accepting all its consequences. Legion had to be put down, at any cost possible, and Dean, being who he was, was willing to die for the cause. So long as a fallen angel, could get his life back.

Legion however was still quite curious though, even though thoughts and memories provided some answers, they still weren't enough. He had the answers, but not the purpose, or even the incentive, and it was _this_ that he really wanted to know. Why did beings sacrifice themselves, _always_, to take the place of others? To take away their sufferings. It was something he would never, _ever_, come to understand.

"How did you even manage that?"

"That would be my doing darling, partially anyway." A simple phrase now takes their site as Crowley intervenes, gracing them with his presence and taking the eyes of all the angels.

Legion first thought 'God', but this might do it for him too.

Instinct tells them all to smite, for angels to take this small bug down, but fortunately for this one demon, _very very fortunate_, considering all his acts he's protected under them as well. At least for this one battle. He all but takes a step forward, and meets Legion in the eye. All the angels follow, track down his every move, and watch out their exchange.

Legions almost smiles at him, and turns to meet their visitor. This demon is the one, the one that will take all he has, and it's only then that he accepts and knows just what it's for. Crowley is a different one, and this he sees alone, always through the angels eyes. _This one has a plan, though it will be for later on until he actually plays it. _Not a one suspects, although to be fair, it might as well be written all over his slimy face. Crowley is a demon after all, and the thing about demons is, that you can never trust a one.

"Well. It looks like I'm no longer needed here since the boss man has stepped in." He turns to Dean, and with simply just a grin, decides to break him down. "Let me make it better for you."

The group now stand in slight confusion, watching as this monster drops his hand and see him now grace a sword, the one and only one they've ever known.

It's an angels sword, the same to them as all the rest, only this one takes his hand and it's one he's able to touch. Something else is wrong here, can see it in his face, and it's one drawback they didn't see and one they hadn't counted on. Their plans are now uncertain, and it's one they can't take back. Not anymore.

Dean can feel his heart hammer in his chest, can feel the heat rip through his bones, and it actually makes him ache. This new chain could not be good, and he finds his faith now plummeting. If God could give him any sign, just a one to prove him wrong, then this might just be it.

With one quick swipe he pulls it out, and a simple strike is all he takes, to finally crush them all.

They alone can see its purpose, Dean of course can feel it first, and it causes a fear to well up in his soul. It's his last desperate action, to cause them all to fold.

They should have seen this coming, should have been able to counter it, but didn't even grace the idea.

Legion only smiles, sees his horror and his pain as the weapon pierces through his gut, the silver light so familiar and taunt that it almost all seems worth it. His vessel feels it, knows the effect that it will cause, and this alone he can smile for. The angel inside will now feel torn, and if it says anything, it's that he'll risk it all to win.

* * *

><p><em>Gabriel felt it the moment that it struck, the sword now pierce and rip his form.<em>

_The archangel only grunts, takes the wound for what it is and feels the grace that it now purges. He only holds on tighter though, heaving breaths and sore filled ache, protective of his brother and the purpose why he's there. Gabriel hangs on, mindful of the shield even through the pain and the threat of being consumed._

_The blood he spills is not his own, only of his borrowed form, and even now through hazy eyes and blood stained teeth he fights. He feels the crimson drip down his chin, can feel it pooling out his stomach, and all he can do is beg and pray that Dean will make it right. Even if he goes without them, he'll go knowing that they tried. They all tried._

_Castiel _must_ be saved, even if he dies._

_With a simple plea is looks up onwards, seeing every monster and every demon and even every sin descend upon him. All of them want a piece, know that he won't last for long, and all they need to do is wait. Wait for him to fall, wait him to weaken, wait for him to give up. He can feel it in their intentions, and feels the glass around him break. He can give a prayer, only this one is towards the One, the savior, the only man who can make this right. For this he must hold on, and for Him he keeps on fighting._

"_Dean. Please hurry…"_

…

The effect is only temporary, but still it does its damage. Bobby sees it happening, can see his body flinch as he lets out one sharp breath and blood begins to pool. Now he catches it more than clearly, the wound now growing from his gut and the sweat now beading at his brow, combining with the small whimpers that he gives. He is still connected, even if he's protected, and Bobby takes it on his own and fights to keep them both together.

Legion is a desperate one, and he will choose to take them all down with him. If only just to win.

* * *

><p>Dean sees it on his brother first, the impact that it causes more than evident as he falls hard onto his knees and holds onto his stomach. Blood now seeps right through his fingers, teeth gritting harshly and eyes pained and lucid. It's Gabriel that he feels, the angel taking on the pain and accepting it for them. Sam can only heal himself, can try and do so as much as he can as he slowly stands back up. He is now his one connection, his only link to this battle, and even if it comes to this Sam will keep on fighting.<p>

With help from them he now stands fully, his lungs burning and heaving as he fights away the pain. He feels his stomach churning, the bits of tissue pulling back, the muscle over it reconnecting, and he can only be grateful for relief. Gabriel however is another story, using all of his grace to keep Castiel alive and preventing him from dying. He can take the pain, will accept every last bit of it, so long as his brother no longer has to. He's already been through more than enough. He can take this one for him.

Sam feels this, can sense the archangel dying inside, and almost feels saddened that he has chosen his demise. Gabriel is a strong one, always has been, and now is the moment to prove it just as Legion pulls right out.

The sword has done its damage, has followed its intent, and through this act alone he can make a guarantee. They will all now fall, every single one, and it's now but sure and certain.

* * *

><p>Bobby just looks downwards, seeing the blood just lift away as he wipes at the last bit of skin. There's nothing left there of the wound, simply just a marking, and it's one he's sure may need some explanation. Castiel remains breathing, one hand settled on his chest while the other lays beside him, the look of quiet peace on his face never once leaving.<p>

Bobby counts his blesses, wonders at that moment who it is he's sending them to and can only really guess. This one is a strong one, clearly that's the case, and as he watches in and out as Castiel takes a breath, it's all he can really ask for. His boys are all still fighting, and it's one he hopes they win.

* * *

><p>Legion now takes on their bluffs, lowering his sword beside him as the blood drips from the tip to the floor. It's his blood that he spills, the blood of that one person whom he desperately demises, and it's only now that he sees its effects. Patience is a virtue, he really should have seen that, and now he only knows of what it is he's done.<p>

Dean is unaffected, shows no signs of stopping or even of his actions, so his last ditch effort to bring him down has only been in vain. So long as he gets a hit though, well, that's all he can really ask for now can't he.

He drops the sword by his side, a look of anger on his face, and it's now all geared towards Dean.

He can feel his legs now shaking, can see the pained breaths that he takes and the feeling in his chest as he finally connects with what he always knew was there. Castiel is in pain, not just from the physical but the mental as well, and all Dean can do is stand here and ask what he can do. He wants to help him, assure him that it will all be okay, but even he does not know the answer and thus can only wing it. This has been his specialty, his one and only art form, and this alone will get him through. Legion may think otherwise, but Dean has had enough. It's time he keeps on learning, and it is he who will provide the lesson.

Dean puts down his own sword, taking in its uselessness and what it is it will ultimately do if he uses it. It's not the only answer, not the one he wants, and so he takes in his second plan and pulls it out right then and there.

Legion looks down at the metal, sees it shining in his hand and takes in its simplicity. He merely only laughs, knowing that it won't work on him but humors the hunter anyway. He simply only stands there, hands now open in invitation as everybody watches, and mouths to him the words. 'Go right on ahead'. This act will just do nothing, but cause Dean all the harm.

It's symbolic, a true test of what he's made of, and he will gladly take it. He's a fool, a desperate man, and if this alone will prove him wrong then he will gladly give it to him. He can feel the archangel inside, the grip around Castiel weakening as his true form seeks respite, and he can only smile at this perfect moment.

Dean can do what he wants, but it will mean nothing in the end. All is lost, and the war has been won. Legion is the victor, and always thought he had been. With only just his smarts and a master at his side, he can do nothing more than make this ever more interesting. It's his talent of course, and one he gladly takes pride in.

"What's that famous saying Scarface says just as he's about to pull the trigger?"

Dean can only humor him, as he takes the Colt tight in his hand and points it straight at him. It may not do a thing, but the least he can do is try. Desperate times mean desperate measures, and this is as good a time as ever.

"Say hello to my little friend."

"That's right." And again, he only smiles at that. "Say goodbye to him Dean."

He only hesitates another second before he can decide, taking in the form before him and accepting it as fraud. This will be his final chance, and whether it is they prevail or not, he'll leave it all in His hands. Dean may lack his faith, but he will give it to Him now.

* * *

><p><em>He would have never thought it'd come to this, could never once imagine it. His life had been a puzzle, a sea of mystery and a sky full of possibilities, but even then it didn't seem right. It didn't seem to fit, not with the pieces he had, and it was only after did he realize that he had actually been missing it one. He would have thought it was his mother, could have maybe even been John, but Dean knows better and can't deny the truth any longer. It's been sitting there the whole time, probably longer than he realized, and it only took a lift, a friendship, a betrayal and then a love to put it all together. He had been the final piece, and with it can get his peace.<em>

…

Dean pulls down once and feels it buck, the bullet meeting at his his eyes and slamming straight into his skull.

Legion only takes it, feels the force of this one object push into his flesh, but the effect he knows means nothing and merely laughs himself. He stays only but a moment, feeling the burn that comes from the wound but not of its ultimate purpose. It will doing nothing on him, his efforts only wasted, and as he lowers back down his head and gives another chuckle, he stares right back up at Dean with more than just a piercing look. His eyes are harsh, a fearsome rage held deep inside, but also prove his triumph and what he thinks is real.

Dean did nothing but waste a bullet, and he can only smile at his foolishness. His faith is torn, and now, so will be the world. That is until, he sees a smile grace his face.

…

All the angels watch now, Legion taking in their gazes as they simply hold their ground.

They should be running, fighting, anything by now to gain justice for their fallen or even to smite him down. But no, they only just stare at him, and it's then that he can feel it; blood now slowly dripping down his face.

It streaks just down his eye, to fall right past his chin and burn right through the ground. The hole now deep in his forehead starts to glow, tiny rivulets filled with fire creasing at his skin and crawling over like a web. The bullet has done damage, one he had not thought to foresee, and it's only then when he feels its power does he finally understand.

This weapon may not kill him, but it does kill everything else, and that includes the monsters he's consumed. Every. Last. **One**…

* * *

><p>Faith can be a blessing, but it can also be a punishment. Dean can't decide which one it is right now, but he feels pretty damn good about it.<p>

* * *

><p>"Demons. Monsters. All ill wills against mankind. Guess you bit off more than you could chew."<p>

Dean feels his throat tighten as his grip on the gun only loosens, but only just slightly, as if to take a stand. Bobby had been doubtful, but apparently, it would seem that another Father had a different idea. This he can be proud of, definitely find pride in, and Dean can only whisper a silent thank you.

_It __**all**__ comes crashing down now._

He rages at his foolishness, angers at his stupidity, and lashes out at his mockery. Legion will not go down like this, refuses to after all these centuries, and if he does he will not go down alone. Before anyone can even make a move Legion makes his own, screaming out his lungs and causing the ground to quake. His eyes are now dark red, his anger radiating from his body, and his hands now clutched in fists beside him as he draws in all his power.

It's unpredictable. Undeniable. But also uncontrollable and this he does not care. He has fought too hard, refuses to back down, and so Dean will go down for him. He will only enact revenge, and it's in him that he will take it out on.

He appears right before him, clutching at his throat and growling out his name through gritted teeth, curses filling through the air as he lunges for his chest. Dean will die today, he has to, and only then will he win.

Legion grasps right on, his vessel glowing streams of red and veins of black as he starts to fall apart. Dean can see it all in him, all the evil that he holds, and knows that he can't keep it in. Fear consumes him as nails dig in, his hands now clutching at his arms as Legion takes his triumph.

Dean knows darkness when he sees it, feels it consuming at his edges, but finds the pain now fading as he opens his eyes and halts his screams. Several angels hold him down, Sam gathered right behind him with arms wrapped tight around his middle and Claire just right after him.

All the angels pull Legion back, Sam and others take Dean forward, but what surprises him most is the presence of one angel in particular that he knows was not there before, his sullen hand now dug deep in Legion's back and causing him to shout. It's Balthazar, the one angel they feared had lost at the hands of his own brother in such a sharp betrayal, but now stands here and fights alongside them. He braces a hand on Legion's back shoulder, the aura surrounding the other as it pierces through his spine only dark and desolate around the weapon that he carries.

No doubt it's one of Heaven's, and a sign that Dean will gladly come to accept. _Cutting it a little close there God_.

Legion loses his grip, can feel his clutches faltering, but still remains to stare at Dean with all the hate he can muster. This one has to die, and he will take him to his grave no matter what the cost. If he wants to win so badly, then he will have to steal it.

"Are you just gonna bloody stand there?" Balthazar shouts, looking straight at the hunter and his brother as if in pure annoyance. He doesn't need to say it, but simply does so anyways, for all times sake. "I hope I don't need to be the one to do everything myself here! Do you want Castiel _back_ or not?"

Dean can only nod, still surprised of all their efforts and even of his presence as all this strength surrounds him. He can only swallow down, and take in his honest gesture. With a menacing tone and a growl at his heels, Balthazar spits him the incentive.

"Well then you buffoon. Get. Him. **Out**."

Dean doesn't even hesitate, his arm pulling back just as Legion pulls him forward, plunging straight into his chest as he digs for what he wants, what he's here to fight for. He knows that it's there, won't believe that it's been gone, and if life has taught him anything it's that it can give you crap. But if you fight hard enough and think good enough and even feel more enough, sometimes life will give you what you want. All he wants is this one thing, and he will more than beg for it.

Legions screams grow only higher as his body continues to be consumed, the bright light emanating from his chest glowing even brighter as Dean digs in deeper. He knows what it is he looks for, focuses all his might on feeling it out, and prays to God that he can get it. They are connected, on this alone he focuses, and closes his eyes as he seeks him out. _Castiel_. He can feel him deep within, and the thought alone just brings him hope.

* * *

><p>Dean finally feels it, can sense the soul trapped deep inside and focuses now solely on retrieving it. He can sense the power that surrounds it, can sense it weakening as he fights, and this he knows will make it harder to decide on.<p>

He grasps on, feels the soul now burn his hand, and with one sharp pull he starts to tug.

Legion however refuses to let go, refuses to let Dean have him, and with all the strength he has yet to muster begins to pull Dean in. If he wants him so badly then he can join him, and through this alone will they be forever united. Legion will not let him win, not if he can make it.

His screams grow even louder as the damage now intensifies, Dean's grip now starting to falter as Legions grasps on tighter and he's being sucked right in. Sam stands right behind him, clasps hard around his brother, and feels the army and entire flock fight to break them apart.

Balthazar continues grasping, starts mouthing off ancient words as Crowley starts to draw from them, blood streaking down his fingers, and Dean knows their meaning right off the bat. It's the seal, the spell to open a door, only this door is slammed right shut and cannot be called upon on this night. Little did he know that they'd be watching.

"You've better have a good plan for this."

That sinister voice is all it takes to carry him through the wind, Dean looking towards his side to see the Horseman standing there. He simply gives him a knowing look, and through this alone Dean understands. He knows he's there with purpose, and it's to finally end this.

"Death."

"Finish it Dean. It's time you fix this, once and for all."

Balthazar finishes off his words, Crowley the seal, and Death gives them their full moon and all can see the portal open. Death has granted them the opportunity, the only chance to right this wrong, and the brethren take it gladly.

Dean can see it behind him, can feel the pull of the realm time hides, and only pushes himself in deeper to grab on to what he wants. Dean feels his ears bleeding, can take the fire in his lungs as he screams and finally grasps onto what he came for. He feels the soul around his clutches, can sense the angel inside letting go, and knows the pain that he now takes, knowing that he may never see them all again.

Gabriel only smiles, his skin now pale and blood still spilling, his eyes half lidded and out of focus. He takes his hands away, removes his wings from all around and pushes on still forward just as he feels his brother pulling out.

Legion can't keep him down anymore, can feel his consciousness growing, and it actually causes a shiver to run down his spine as he sees his small eyes open. Castiel's awake, more than just aware but not of what he knows. Gabriel can't keep going, and it's time he's said goodbye.

Castiel slowly turns, sees the look right on his face and can't help but drop his own. It's one he never thought he'd see, one he never thought he'd hate, and in all honesty, it has him growing scared. The blood alone does not concern him, it's what's in his eyes, and Gabriel only smiles even if he does not have the strength to do much more than that. It's simply just the brother in him, to keep all others from breaking.

"Gabriel?"

He'd made a deal, had made a choice, and it's all led down to this. His number was up.

He can take his final offering, can accept it without a doubt, and Gabriel gives a final goodbye before finally letting go. He cannot keep him here, cannot protect him here, and only focuses on the one person that he knows can do it for him. He's done all that he can, and so it's up to him now.

"So long bro." What he doesn't get the chance to whisper but hears fading in his mind:_ I'll miss you, so_ _take care of yourself_.

Gabriel simply smiles, unshed tears now streaming down his lids and joy now radiating from his core as Castiel shouts out to him. It's all he ever wanted, the only prayer he could ever ask for as he lets his grip go, and now God has granted his reprieve. By simply just accepting his fate, as Dean finally takes him out.

Castiel can now be saved, and he can have his second chance.

"_Thank God_."

It's all he'll ever ask for, the only thing he'll want, and with this alone Gabriel can finally have his peace. He lets go, allows the shield to fall apart and allows himself to be devoured. It's all just an ocean, just a thing of inky black, and it's the final thing that he will ever see. He'll take it with a smile.

…

Dean can feel the disconnection, can take in his heart that the archangel has fallen, and fights his hardest to take Cas back even in his hesitation to leave him.

Legion still takes his chances though, the skin he wears beginning to peel and crack apart as his arms just squeeze on tighter to the one still plunged in him. The light beneath is just too much, far too great for him to take, and his face just starts shooting forward as his screams fill the skies and his eyes and mouth are glowing bright.

Dean cannot hold on, his strength alone is not enough, and this they all now see. Dean can keep on fighting, but even he will have a limit. It would seem that this one moment was meant to end in a standstill.

Claire can see it in his face, can feel the desperation in his heart and the tearing of muscles in his arm as he still holds on to take set him free. Dean isn't strong enough, not at least to pull him through, and it's time she take her turn.

Two angels stand behind her, her lovely Josephine and powerful Elizael, and both now push her onwards, with simply just a nod.

Her wings now bloom out onwards, the light now bright and white, and wrapping all around them. Dean can see her actions, can only wonder what she's doing, and looks back just to see her smile. Her hands now grace his shoulders, her arms embraced protectively over both the brothers and with a final look she says goodbye. She simply lifts her head, sends a silent prayer to up above, and with a final act lets herself go and releases the grace that holds them together.

It blinds them all, floods their wings with all but power and ever burning light, and Dean can feel it in his veins as it courses through his body.

It settles in his chest, wrapping tightly around the one and ancient grace he already owns, and feels the raw intensity consume him as a whole. She has given up her light, has sacrificed herself, all for this one moment, so that he could prevail. Dean finds himself screaming, the power of it all choking at his core, and with one final tug engulfs the land in light.

He has his chance, can take no more than this, and he does so with all the effort he can muster, all the strength that he can take and puts it in his final move. He simply clutches at his treasure, and takes away his pain. His friend can now be saved, and it's all in this one moment. They can have their peace, and he can have his light.

Dean can _finally_…take him home.

**To Be Continued…**

**Authors End Note:** Finally managed to finish this while listening to Kelly Clarkson's song What Doesn't Kill You (Stronger) strangely enough. Who knew lol. Personal note now. If they bring back Misha Collins only to turned him into the Leviathan boss or some other evil badass, I'm gonna be pissed. Just sayin'. Hopefully I made due of that scenario though. But from what I've been hearing it's just him being brought back without a memory and apparently Sera Gamble has written the episode. We'll see how this plays out. :P Review please? You've all been awesome and wonderful and so down to earth with me so please just keep it up. You have no idea how much encouragement it gives me. :)


	27. Chapter 27

**Authors Note:** My muse for this story came back at 3:00am one morning just an hour and a half before I was scheduled to get up for work. As my dear friend **Cyberbutterfly** said when I gave her the news "Happy Hour at the bar had to end SOMETIME" haha. Which is ironic considering I actually do work at a hotel bar and restaurant along with the coffee shop and kitchen lol. She also has an awesome S7 story out herself called "Brutal Planet" that I _insist_ you go check out, so be sure to do that. If you're a fan of Crowley for instance, she's the one you need to go to to get your fix. (Literally, I think the guy is hiding in her head this season) ;D

Another thanks again to **Apollo199199** for the song. She comes up with the most interesting tracks for me to use. Thanks again girl.

**Written:** 12 January

**Soundtrack:** When you Find Me by Joshua Radin featuring Maria Taylor

**Word Count: **4300+

"_And with that he held his peace. And all the people then shouted, and said, Great is Truth, and mighty above all things."_

Esdra (Apocrypha) 4:41 – The Bible (King James Version)

**Chapter 27**

_Time doesn't seem to pass at all for a moment. It's all surreal, like an image made in water, and it seeks only to tell the truth when you know the reflection will be a lie. He feels it though, knows what it is he expects to look back at, and for that one moment in his life he's almost afraid to look at it. But he doesn't turn back, doesn't care what it may say or what it'll show or even if it gives him anything at all. All he wants is to see something, and he eventually does._

…

An hour has turned into a day, a day a week, a week a month, and so on and so forth. Castiel has been returned his soul, polished and untainted, while Legion now sits at the bottom of his own pit, chained and cuffed and at the mercy of those he tried to use for his destruction. Dean does not envy him, would never even think to do so, but he had made a choice and had dug his own grave the second he chose to mess with them. To mess with him. And also with Castiel. For him alone and for billions of others he fought, nearly died and just about destroyed himself but still he prevailed, and the proof of his efforts is sleeping right beside him.

He watches as he breathes, counts the seconds before he's sure he'll open his eyes, and he finds himself rewarded and smiling a genuine smile when it finally does happen.

He's been waiting for an hour…a day…a week, and the moment he has him is almost like a new beginning. He sees those bright blue eyes once more, and it's like nothing bad has ever happened in his life. He gets this one miracle, and it makes up for all the others, he never got answered.

* * *

><p>He's tired, this becomes absolutely clear even though he's been unconscious for more than a week. Dean doesn't push him though, just lets his hand settle on his brow before his fingers start to cart warmly through his scalp. He's alive, that's all that matters, and even though it took many to get them here and even more to get them back, all he can ask for is this. Castiel is sleeping, waking with a simple whispering of <em>This isn't Heaven is it<em> and getting Dean's reply of _Corny Cas_, before he turns towards him and lets himself smile, the exhaustion consuming him once more as he falls back into blissful oblivion. Dean is here, he doesn't need to worry, and with that alone he can find his peace. Dean is there as always, keeping him assured, and if there were ever a time for him to finally thank his Father for something, he can think of no others.

* * *

><p>They finally manage to get him out of the panic room, even if he needs some help just to get himself onto his legs. It's been a week, and too damn long of one. Dean helps him to stand, assists in taking out the needle from his arm, and helps him with the first few steps until he gets it on his own. If there's anything Dean knows it's that several days of sleeping with no food, no water and no bathing leads to one thing: a shove into a shower and then a seat at the kitchen table, all of which prepared by his truly.<p>

Dean still can't believe it, that he's actually watching his friend and one time angel actually eating from the chair right across from him and relishing in a meal like he hasn't done in months. Hell, he'd say since Famine but, that's a memory for another time and not one he's willing to creep in to ruin this moment. It's too surreal, almost like a dream, but he doesn't pinch himself or try to find his way out, cause he knows it's real. He doesn't need to tell himself this. He doesn't need to convince himself. He doesn't need to lie. It's all just his life playing out right in front of him, and for once it feels like it's not clouded by an ominous aura. It's just light, and he can actually be happy.

It doesn't stay that way though. Castiel is in mourning now, remembering Gabriel's sacrifice and that of so many others, even those who he had been deemed as an outcast by. Things at the Singer home are peaceful for a time, but they're also incredibly tense. It becomes several days of such an atmosphere, that they find themselves almost choking at it. The entire ordeal weighs heavily on their minds, none more so than Cas' and the knowledge of what has happened to Gabriel and even Balthazar's interference brings him even more guilt. Balthazar had helped, had apparently been watching the entire time, but did not wish to forgive so easily and asked the brothers not to mention him. To tell him that it never happened and that he was actually never there. But Castiel remembered, could feel his presence at that time, and it actually caused an even deeper sorrow to bury itself inside to know that he had ruined it. That he had betrayed him and in the worst possible way and for that he could not heal. Balthazar was angry, had every right to be so, and Castiel would accept it simply because he had to. So many had died in his name, so many more by his hands, and the one who had sworn his loyalty and had proven it so many times to him had gotten a sword in the back. Castiel didn't deserve his forgiveness, and didn't expect to get it. At least not yet.

Castiel is asleep on the couch, his head resting on Dean's lap and left side sunk into the cushions facing him. His arms stay pressed again his chest, and even in slightly tattered jeans and a faded navy blue t-shirt, he looks like he couldn't be any more at peace than he is right now. But he isn't. Not yet he won't. The pain lines around his eyes tell a different story, one filled with stress and worry and anxiety. He hasn't slept properly, not for several days as the memories all came flooding back, and it didn't take long for them to notice, Dean especially. He can see it written on his face, feel it in the muscles of his back, and can even recognize it in the shaking of his voice when he speaks. Castiel is bothered, more than just a little, and this latest conflict of emotions has them all growing worried. It's more than enough for them to bear, but again, Dean chooses to go at it alone.

Cas is suffering, quietly, and the hunter gives him his space until he can no longer take it. He can feel them, every emotion, every last bit, and it tortures him so much that he's barely past the brink of keeping himself together. It doesn't take long before he finds him, goes to him, and feels his spirit huddle in on himself and question everything that's happened over the past four years. From his rebellion, to his war, to his lies and his deceit, and why he has been forgiven for them all. He doesn't know why, can't fathom why it is he's been so lucky. Surely others deserve more, but always get less, and it's a decision he can't begin to understand.

But it doesn't seem to matter.

He's here, and He's watching, and with Dean by his side he can be certain of one thing that he'll never have to question. He'll never be alone now, will never need to suffer, and can actually start living with every freedom possible.

God is always with him, has always been beside him, and it's now, as Dean holds onto that for him, does he finally know the truth. He may count onto his losses, say a silent prayer for every brethren fallen, but it will never make a difference. They all gave up their lives, so he could have back his, and the grief he feels for it is the strongest ever. Dean knows what hides behind it though, and insists to him, with every fiber of his being, _that God always forgives those, who can forgive themselves._

* * *

><p>Again Dean finds his fingers carting through Castiel's hair, so much like he did when he was asleep, waiting for his soul to settle and for his eyes to open. He never realized how much he liked doing it, but he did. And again the moment feels so unreal. He finds it brings him comfort, for Cas as well, as he reconciles into sleep as peacefully as he can manage. There aren't any nightmares, aren't any disruptions, only just emotion and conflict, but even the noises of the home in the background doesn't seem to make him give a damn. It just lets him live in this moment, in this one perfect time, and nothing more can seem to break that. The fact of the matter however is this, there is still one loose end to tie up, and it's one he had almost forgotten about.<p>

Sam.

At that moment Josephine drops in, sees the state of her one mortal brethren and his partner and doesn't say a word. She simply just looks down, a hint of a smile almost creeping on the edges of her frown, and Dean just finishes it for her and tries to grace one of his own. He's settled, content for the most part, and plans to take no others at his side other than the man right beside him. The angels have had their moments, and now he will have his. He and she have had their differences, more than just a few, but after a private conversation between the two after this whole ordeal, the words she gave him were ones he'll never forget. In all of Castiel's millions of years of existing, not one thing had ever had such profound an impact as Dean Winchester did. If there is anything her can learn from it all, it's through that fact alone that he can rest upon.

She slowly walks on over, cautious of her step so as not to wake her brother who lies so still upon the couch, and Dean just follows her until she meets him eye to eye. There's still that one issue, the one they'd hoped to fix, and it would seem that it's been answered. She gives him just a nod, and he in response returns it.

She stands back up, heading out the living room just as Dean looks back and focuses his attention back on Cas. He doesn't need to hear this, and so lets him stay in his oblivion and under watch, always and only by him.

Sam is in the study, seated on the sofa there while Bobby stares at him from the desk when both notice their visitor walk in. She carries with her a message, a knowing look for who she seeks, and it's Sam who has been waiting. He hadn't even doubted, but still it takes its toll.

"We got him."

Sam feels the words sink in and lets the feeling roll off his shoulders. He'd been waiting for this, praying for it, and it would seem that she has brought it. It hasn't been easy, knowing that he was trapped, but now at least he can ponder, and bring back what they have lost.

* * *

><p>"So, how exactly are we going to do this?"<p>

"I don't know if you realize it Sam, but you have an _archangels_ grace sitting under your ribcage. We can't just reach in there and take it out. It's a little more complicating than that."

"Well un-complicate it then _sweetheart_." Bobby interrupts, giving her one of his signature glares and getting one in return. He doesn't know what it is about her, but she's always been a snappy one with them, even if she isn't much right now, and frankly, Bobby's kind of tired of it already. That and the stress of the past few days have started to take its toll on him. "Gabriel put it in there, I'm sure he can take it back out."

"Gabriel can't do _anything_ right now, _old man_." Her glare grows even bigger, and Bobby steps down just a tad. "He used the remaining of his grace to get Castiel out remember. That along with his injury from Legion rendered him paralyzed. He couldn't even _get_ out. Didn't stand the chance before he was devoured." She walks up to the desk, closer to Bobby, and meets him eye to eye. "We lost a third of our garrisons trying to get him back, and we've lost enough as it is. So excuse me if I don't find your petty comments very amusing right now."

"And I don't appreciate your attitude right now, yet here I am putting up with it. In _my_ house." Bobby doesn't mean to be prude, but frankly, it's about time these angels learn the true meaning of what's worth fighting and dying for. "Life requires sacrifices honey. I don't think I need to tell you that."

And this actually has her eyes softening, questioning, but harden up soon enough as she turns her attention back on Sam. She knows all about sacrifice, has seen it happen countless times throughout the millennia, and doesn't need a pep talk on it. Bobby is just tired of all the sacrificial BS on their parts, on his boys behalves, and he just wants it over with. She knows that.

"Gabriel hid a piece of his grace inside of you Sam. We need you to come with us so we can take it out and we can revive him."

"Gabriel's dead?" Sam asks, wondering how that is when he can still feel him through their link. It had been that way for weeks, the connection still pulsing deep within his chest and wavering more and more day after day after day. It never disappeared, but there were days where he wondered if it might.

"He might as well be. Son of a bitch keeps fighting though." She sighs, looking down at the floor before returning her gaze back at Bobby. "You've taken care of Castiel, and for that we're grateful." She admits quietly, almost humiliated to be thanking him, but again lifts her head and makes him a promise. "We'll take care of Sam."

"You better."

His reply is serious, but deep down she can tell that the hunter is thankful in return. Sam stands up slowly from the couch, and gathering his hands in hers, she concentrates, and where once stood both, the two have disappeared.

* * *

><p>Heaven looks the same as the last time he'd seen it, harmonious, beautiful, but empty just as well. The clouds hang almost limply, the light almost hiding, and the voice and song of the angels who sing are almost nearly quiet. Sam can feel it in his bones, knows the numbers have decreased, but it's not one he can shed on when there are others who still live. Heaven is not in shambles, merely thin, and he will not dread upon it or in that fact that it has changed. Much has changed, but it will be put back right. He knows that. He believes that, because he has to.<p>

"Getting an angels grace is easy. It's taking it out that's the hard part."

Josephine pulls him out of his thoughts, and he looks down at her to take in her gaze. She seems tired, weary, but above all thankful. It looks as if she's reached an end, an end of something she's been fighting for, and it's about time they get it over with.

"Is it gonna hurt?"

"Like hell, but it won't kill you. Take solace in that."

He can't tell if she's being sincere, or joking only slightly to assure him of her honesty, but he takes it as it is and accepts her last consolation. She's only here to help him, not to hurt him, and it's a job that she takes quite seriously.

"Oh yeah. Sure."

She simply only smiles, and leads him to the room. Sam thinks about it all, everything that's happened, and wonders and how it is they've gone this far. The Apocalypse was a nightmare, the war in Heaven was a challenge, the loss of so many on both sides has been countless, and yet here he's still standing. The angels made their choices, the demons chose to run, the monsters have been quiet and the world has been peaceful for the most part. Legion took all the evil, released it once he had gone, and the moment they returned and saw evidence of its power they couldn't help but feel relieved. Even though evil has its consequences, a world with only good can never last for very long. It needs balance, it needs structure, but it all needs a purpose. How can kindness or compassion have a place in it, if there's nothing there in which to bring it out. Sam contemplates all of this, as he's taken into the chamber.

There Gabriel lies, stark still right on the altar, with only he and a guardian to take a look at him. He's stark, pale and a ghost, but Sam knows that it won't be long before his light is shining once again. He's made a purpose of him, has taken it all for this one moment, and it's one he hopes will help him in his trials.

Good cannot flourish without evil, can never serve a purpose, and not until you see what life can give you, can take away, can you know how good you've had it.

…

Weeks more pass before Sam can be returned, hours only in their time, and even though he's fatigued and tired and feels like his chest was ripped to shreds he's fine. Insists that it's okay, and goes to pass out in Bobby's study under the watchful eye of the hunter. There's a smile on his face, even as he dreams of sweet nothings, and it doesn't take a genius to figure out that Sam has had one of his epiphanies. They'll ask about it later, allow him to rest for now, and just take in the glory of knowing that their lives are spared at the moment of chaos. Who would have ever known that they'd actually get to see it.

* * *

><p>"Claire wants to talk to you."<p>

Dean'll admit, he never thought he'd be so happy to hear that voice again. Amelia had called, just hours after they had returned with Castiel's soul and informed them that Claire was back, sleeping peacefully in her bed. She didn't even know it, had walked about her house and just right passed her room to see her lying there, looking almost happy and harmonious as if she'd never left. She never asked what happened, only allowed her smile to tell her everything was fine, and she swore on her God that she would never leave her side again. Claire had been her blessing, her last thing to live for in this world, and a miracle upon all miracles. Days had been spent catching up with her, after all those months at Bobby's, and even with her stories and her heartache and all the trials in between, she was grateful. Everything was right again, and everything was fair.

"Claire."

"Hello Dean. How are you?"

"God. I'm…we're good." He laughed softly, happy to hear her voice and glad to get her call after the panic he got after her disappearance. He figured that she had planned it, knew what would happen after, and left his trust in her hands to not get him in trouble. Amelia was a mother, and Dean knew from experience, to never screw with one. _Ever_.

"Good." She replied, her smile evident through her voice as she pressed the phone closer to her ear. She wanted to hear his voice, feel the joy radiate from his soul, and even though they had had their fair share of trials it seemed like all of that didn't even matter. She had won, they were free, and they were happy, at last. "How is he?"

"Cas? Sleeping like a baby." Dean chuckled, unable to take away the smile still gracing on his face. The weeks had been hard ones, mostly tense and frantic, but other than the fact that memories of their problems were fading they could at least find this one purpose. This one view, Everything was peaceful, and for that he could be thankful. "Seriously. No nightmares, nothing. It's like, nothing with the angels ever happened."

"That's good. I figured as much," she admits, knowing that the memories of his hell were bound to fade away. "Castiel doesn't need to remember any of that. He's been through enough already.

"That he has." Dean replies, that small smile still on his lips as he wonders how he's been so lucky. Everything just seemed to want to fall apart, and now, it's like nothing ever happened. Almost anyways. "Hey how are you doing by the way? You uh…you kinda gave us a scare there."

Dean couldn't help but wonder, when he heard a little laugh on her end.

"I'm fine. I didn't mean to scare you. It just, it happened, and I'm back home so. It's okay." She actually found herself grinning, the happiness in her voice full and enlightened, and she couldn't help but laugh again at what Dean replied right back.

"Yeah well don't do that to me again. I don't need your mother hunting me down trying to kill me because her daughter ran away or…disappeared in a flash of light. Especially that one, I…I wouldn't even know what to say or how to explain it."

Again he chuckled, appreciating the chance at a joke and a laugh, and she in response returned it. Their conversation continues, both with subtle instances and just as subtle views, but both promise to keep in touch and thank each other for everything that the other has done for them. There's peace on the horizon, a sort of heavenly glow if you could see, and it's one that the two of them will hang on to for as long as they are able.

* * *

><p>It's the final days of transition before chaos bangs at their doors, only this time, it's one they'll gladly take. Gabriel drops by for a visit, watching as his brother plays a game of chess against Sam in the kitchen and kicks his ass again, and he can't help but smile like an idiot when they both insist on a re-match. He's come to talk to Dean, ask him about his progress and see if they're okay. Dean admits they're good, but there's still one thing that bugs him and he decides to lay it down for him right then and there. It's been on his mind for weeks, and he figured, with everything that's happened, that he can still find it in him to vent out his frustrations. Maybe the Messenger of God will see it his way.<p>

"Your brothers are dicks by the way."

At first Gabriel has to think about his words, but finally comes to the conclusion of just what brothers he's talking about. He figured they'd come up, and frankly, as much as it annoyed him, he kind of had to agree. By just a little of course.

"They were just following protocol."

"And that was to kick Cas' ass?"

"To destroy any threat against God. I don't know if you noticed but Cas went kind of crazy when he gobbled up the souls from Purgatory dude." Gabriel didn't even seem to be joking, at least not entirely, but still he showed his disgust for his four avenging brothers. "They were just doing their job man. Can't blame them for that."

"So you condone what they did?"

"Absolutely not." Gabriel scoffed, as if he'd wish that on his worst enemy. "No one deserves that kind of punishment not even him. He may have crossed the line but they crossed an even bigger one in my opinion."

"Great to know. I guess not all of you guys are dicks after all."

"I take offense to that Dean-o."

"Of _course_ you would."

"Hey, still an angel. Even if I did toss the halo to hang out with the Pagans."

Their conversation continued for just a short time later, the two discussing lives and plans and maybe even some future visits (as scary of an idea as that was) and Dean pretty much forgave him for his taunts (_you two will be so _perfect_ together_) and accepted all his flaws (_Screw off Gabriel. You first Dean-o._). They'd known each other for years now, ever since his stint at Mystery Spot and the high school years before that, and he figured, against all instincts, that maybe, just _maybe_, he could finally catch a break. Gabriel may have been a pain in his ass, but he was also Castiel's brother, one he didn't want to lose again, and Dean could understand that. Now, being a human, he would need all the help he could get, and Gabriel would be there to offer it to them. Dean would just accept it, as he was everything else. He only hoped that it wouldn't come with more tricks up the angels sleeve. He could go a lifetime without having those again.

"I never said I wasn't still a still Trickster. I can't put my cape up just yet." And the smile he gave pretty much just said it all to him.

Damn it.

**To Be Continued…**

**Authors End Note:** Yeah, I had to make this a little more lighthearted after all the angst. I hope it did some justice. One more chapter left guys and then the sequel sneak peak. Hope to see you there. Also, now that I've actually done the research and seen the "The Bourne Identity" I think I may know where the show intends to go with Castiel. We know he's got amnesia, but still has his powers, so I'm guessing that it'll be just like it is in the movie and he has to remember who he is by going back to where it's all started? If so, then I gotta say, the writers may just have my interest again. Oh and that picture Misha posted on Twitter, total spoiler giveaway. Quite frankly, this season has kind of been a bit of a drag, almost like an obligation, and I just want to reach the end already. Who's with me? I'm forming my own rebellion here. :P


	28. Chapter 28

**Authors Note:** My muse for this chapter came around while I was stuck watching Breaking Dawn with my little cousin. I'm not even kidding…

Anyways, a very HUGE thank you to **Apollo199199** for introducing me to this song via Twitter (I'm starting to think that she's my new iTunes). It absolutely tied everything together for the final chapter of this story as well as the entire piece altogether. You guys truly have been wonderful and I could not have finished this without all your support. Thank you so much for the opportunity to give you guys a little piece of imagination. It really has been quite the experience. Thank you all. :)

**Written:** 14 January

**Soundtrack:** Iridescent by Linkin Park

**Word Count:** 2200+

"_For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also."_

Luke 12:34 – The Bible

**Chapter 28**

_Endings are a blessing. They're also the start of a new beginning. It's in this moment that he is standing, a moment he could never even have pictured or believed in. Or even thought was possible. Dean never cared to think about it, about this moment, or even getting to this point because he never saw it happening. Ever. To see the day. To live in this chance. To get the opportunity to start all over._

* * *

><p>It had now been a week, a week of wondering and worrying and so many jitters that he thought he was bound to go insane. He could feel it in him too, wondering if either one should say something or make a move or tackle the issue at all. Cas had avoided it, knowing that his lack of experience would be the perfect excuse, and Dean well, Dean was just an idiot who kept losing his cool every time he thought about it. Needless to say, it was starting to grind on everyone's nerves. It took Sam, finally, to push his brother towards the former angel and get going, telling Dean to just think of the perfect spot to do it without distraction and to just get it over with already. Surprisingly, the idea didn't take long to surface, and soon enough Dean was on his feet and dragging Cas out the door. Okay so maybe not dragging, but he certainly wouldn't call it just going up to Cas, taking his hand and leading him out the house like some nervous boyfriend. That would just be, well, not Dean Winchester thank you very much.<p>

Dean tried being subtle, but also secretive, and held out the door to Cas as both left the house and headed to the Impala. The drive was quick, it was also pretty quiet with both of them not really speaking and Dean not playing any music . Cas just kept staring at him and then occasionally outside the window, watching the fields pass by them and the trees pass above them. He could see small hillsides and jagged mountaintops, rows of pines and furs and other shrubbery as Dean took a fork in the road and headed down a dirt path. Castiel didn't know what to make of it, what to make of this as Dean reached an end and stopped the car, leaving it to sit at the end of one of the many cliff sides. Dean carefully got out, Castiel watching him and doing the same and then following him up the mountain side. It was small, steep in some areas but smooth in others, and by the time the two of them got to the top it was like they had barely made the journey there at all. Castiel easily tired, his body still adjusting to the fact of being fully human and not in a constant state of stress, but Dean could see his slight struggle and held out his hand to pull him over the last bit towards the top.

The finally reached the cliff side, the view from up here almost heavenly and Godlike, a perfect layout of the town right in front of them. Castiel took in the scenery, and couldn't even begin to describe the feeling welling up in his chest. It was almost like he was flying again, seeing the earth from the sky above and taking in all its beauty. Dean figured he'd appreciate it, and looked over to his friend to take in his expression. He was smiling, and that was more than enough to get a small one to cross his own lips.

"I think I figured out why you liked hanging out on Bobby's roof so much. You get a pretty good view when you're up that high."

Castiel didn't respond, just continued staring, and taking in their surroundings as Dean sat down right on the edge and indicated Cas to sit down with him. At first he just stood there, taking in his friend and Righteous Man and his cool façade as he made himself comfortable on the cliffs edge and took in the view himself. He might have considered it bold, he may have even considered it crazy, but Castiel chose to push down his doubt and took a chance, stepping just behind and sitting down at Dean's back. He was nervous, both of them could feel it, and with just a tiny bit of hesitance he sat down upon the rocks and braced his arms around Dean's neck, resting his chin on his right shoulder.

His left leg hung off the edge of the cliff along with Dean's own, while the other folded in front of him and rested behind the small of Dean's back. He could sense Dean's hesitance, his lack of comfort at just an intimate position, but after another moment of adjustment just took it for what it was and reached around to clutch his right hand over both of Cas' arms, holding the two of them together. He figured he might as well get used to it, a small smile creeping on the edge of his mouth, and actually thanked God that his little angel was the one with the guts to make the first move, to break the barrier. Only He knew where this was actually bound to be heading, and until he could figure it out, he'd leave it in His hands.

The two sat there in silence, relishing the view and the wind and lightly swaying trees, watching as birds flew around and deer drank from the lake and life bustled in the town. Nothing else really seemed to matter at that moment, not outside the two of them anyway, and both men actually relished in that moment as they took it all in. There was still much to tackle, even more to discuss and other issues to get over, but they figured that they had plenty of time for all of that. They could live in this moment for now, since nothing else seemed to want to touch it.

"I'm not gonna let you down Cas. I promise you that."

Dean's sudden words almost pulled Castiel out of his trance, his arms tightening a moment before finally relaxing again. He thought that maybe Dean would reject him, perhaps leave him to fend for himself and refuse to take him under his wing (metaphorically speaking of course). But that didn't seem to be the case, Dean finally finding his moment and peace and deciding to follow a path he never once thought he'd take. Castiel actually took solace in that, heaving out a sigh and tightening his grip around the man's shoulders. He was calm, collected for the most part, and couldn't help his own smile come out slightly as he thought of his own words to say. It didn't take long to find them, the thoughts had never changed even throughout the past four years, and so Castiel took a breath and looked onwards. He was unraveling himself, bringing out his truths and laying himself bare for Dean to see. The two were a part of each other now, this much was clear, and he figured, even with all their misdeeds and trials, that now was the time to start anew.

"You could never do that Dean. You never have."

Dean would deny it if anyone asked if his heart skipped once at that second.

"Yeah well, I'm just trying to let you know okay. Whatever this is, whatever, it may turn out to be just, let me have a little time to figure it out okay."

Dean felt himself pausing, trying to figure out his next words as Castiel simply stood still. He didn't get it either, neither one of them did, but the least they could do was try and see where it went for them. Hesitation was natural, and in that both could understand.

"These…emotions. I don't understand them. Perhaps I will learn but," Castiel paused as well, trying to find the right words that wouldn't end up scaring Dean away, but he needn't have to worry either. Both of them were confused, a little hesitant, and it seemed quite natural to them if they were already willing to break down the barriers. "I want to learn them with you beside me."

Dean actually understood that part, felt relief in it actually, and couldn't help but smile a little more as he closed his eyes and tried to imagine it. What the two of them carried was so unlike anything else, something unique and strong and without measure. It would take some time to get used to, more than just a little bit, but at least they had each other to fall back on and for that he could be more than grateful. He had his family, he had a friend, who would maybe become a partner, and for now that was all he needed. Tomorrow would be another day, another trial, but for the moment, all he wanted was to stay in the here and now.

"I don't get it either Cas, trust me," Dean chuckled, holding his grip a little tighter around Cas' arms and breathing in. "We will though. What with our whole 'profound bond' and all, I'm sure we'll figure it out."

He chuckled at his words, Castiel doing so a little as well as both actually thought about it. Who knew what was bound to happen, what trials they would face and just how many more tribulations would come their way, but at least they knew they had the other and could take solace in that. No matter what the outcome, both new that they still had that. Their profound bond.

"I'm sorry Dean." Castiel said suddenly, his body tensing just a bit as he fought for the words to say. They still weighed heavily on his mind, everything that came with it, and he wanted it gone even though he knew that it would not be possible. Not yet at least. "I shouldn't have lied to you, about anything. I should have come to you first and asked for your help."

"You did remember." Dean interrupted, not wanting to pile on more guilt or have the man give more of his own. He'd done enough of that already, and the punishment he knew he received was more than enough proof to settle that fact. "But then you thought about what my wellbeing and my life and decided to take a different route. You were desperate Cas. We all get desperate when shit starts to hit the fan. It's just like when I made the deal to save Sam."

Castiel never even thought about it that way, never realized that Dean had actually made a valid point and relished on it. He simply stared away, Dean looking at him the entire time as if to tell him that it was okay, that it was over already, and after just another moment, looking as if he was about to let go he didn't. Instead he tightened his grip around him even more and Dean in return held onto it. They didn't have to say it, neither one could find the words, but in the end they knew what they were and decided instead to leave them be. _I forgive you_. It was just that simple, and the two of them just held onto that as if it were the only chain that held them down, linked them together.

They simply remain sitting there, talking, speaking of nothing in particular and anything that came to mind until Castiel starts to yawn, his words beginning to trail a bit and his breathing evening out. Dean can hear it against his cheek, feels the former angel relaxing against his body and taking in its comfort. He says nothing as Castiel softly falls asleep, still pressed up against him, and Dean can only simply sigh happily at the whole thing, mesmerized at the moment of it all. He then furrows his eyebrows a bit, a sudden thought coming to him that could only ruin the moment slightly. It wasn't a big deal, but still, he had to take into account that he _was_ literally sitting off the edge of a cliff here. He simply rolled his eyes heavenwards, and whispered to himself in the most annoyed voice possible.

"How the hell am I supposed to drag your ass down this thing now?"

Castiel didn't even respond, just let his shallow breathing do the talking for him, and Dean couldn't help but shake his head and hide a grin. He wanted to be pissed, but couldn't seem to find the means to, and so instead just heaved a sigh and went about looking out towards the sunset. He couldn't deny it if he wanted to, but he couldn't think of a more perfect time to say it.

"Dick."

Dean never saw the small smile grace Castiel's lips as he heard Dean's innocent taunt, burying his head deeper into the crook of Dean's neck. This was perfect, beyond perfect, and there was nothing else that Castiel could compare it to other than perfection. It felt liberating, life changing, and absolutely wonderful.

It felt like freedom.

**THE END**

**Authors End Note:** Cas would get that nickname wouldn't he? Who would have thought that one prompt for a one shot idea would lead to this? I'm so very proud of it though. Yeah I tortured Cas (a lot) but ultimately I think I gave this story a very appropriate ending and hopefully was enough to satisfy everybody's needs. And besides…I don't think this is the ending of this story anymore. *hint hint* I guess you'll just have to wait and see. ;)

Next chapter here will be the teaser for the next story so, watch out for it please. And thank you so much again. You guys have been amazing.

Yours truly,

₪anonymous-unknown₪

**To Be Continued in Part II:** Thinner Than the Lines We Cross


	29. Chapter 29

**Chapter 29: Extended Ending**

Legion stands before his master, on trial. He speaks almost hesitantly, head bowed and eyes remaining still as he stares down at the ground, pleading with himself to stop and be quiet. He cannot however. He has to answer to him, to his father, his mentor, his _master_. He has done him wrong. He has failed him, and failure is not an option. He was better than this. More prepared than this, and he will pay the consequences. He simply speaks, insisting that he will not fail next time and that there is a plan in place. But he will hear none of it.

His master is displeased, does not believe in mercy and second chances, and so he shows his idea of mercy. His punishment. His thought of justice. He disciplines; he does not accept failure, and destroys those who do. Evil has a name, evil has a purpose, and evil shall reign. He shall rise himself, and take all others from his way. The Master shall rise, and the Master shall come again.

"_The great day of their wrath is come; and who is able to stand?"_

ooo

He's always been a watcher, a messenger, a brother and a friend. Gabriel knows this, can see it in his eyes, and chooses this one moment to not intervene. He has him, needs no other at this moment, and so he shall grant him his reprieve and walk away.

He watches, several yards from them yet still close enough to see their unity. It's a challenge, a grace, but one that is impenetrable nonetheless. He will need it, to guide him, and to give him what he needs. Castiel will need his strength, Dean his valor, and both of them their faiths. Destiny will come calling, and Fate will decide their ends.

He walks away from the cliff, lets he and his brother have their moment of peace, and prays that they relish it. Things will change, dramatically, and choices will have to be made again. It is but another step, to their ultimate weapon and war.

He simply whistles a tune as he makes his way down the cliff side, hands in his pockets and smile almost desperate, crooked. He made his decision, knew what troubles it could bring, but did not have the effort to push it all away. It drowned him in their swords, and he was forced to accept.

He simply whistles, sings, and smiles.

Gabriel is their puppet, now their enemy, and he is in control. Legion made a plan of him, of them, and thus he shall unleash it. His wings unfurl, the shadows of them long and fierce…and **black**.

"_If you're not sinninggg, you're not havinggg fun."_

ooo

**THE END**


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